will you be sad with me
oh will you be?
will you be sad down south
in the bougainville
sad in the saddle, yippee-i-kaiee
bite your tongue, watch your mouth
laugh a little east of south
shine the flowers, rise the sea
let our bliss be agony
~
notes:
sadness proves joy.
exquisite is sad, joy's
anagram. you are never
so pure as shuddering with
sad, wet with tears in vita.
feel a lime green corduroy
sofa circa 1949 near a
window with blinds half
closed to afternoon sun,
lovers kissing in old-
fashioned underwear. a
faded grape rug of furze.
in a room, same time, of peeling linoleum and browned
screens, the artist tunes the radio to the edge of the
rain,
so neither is loud.