1. |
Iodine (L.Cohen)
09:12
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I needed you, I thought I was in danger,
Of losing what I used to think was mine.
You let me love you till I was a failure,
Your beauty on my bruise like iodine.
I asked you if a man could be forgiven,
And though I failed at love, was this a crime?
You said, "Don't worry, don't worry, darling,
There are many ways a man can serve his time."
You covered up that place I could not master.
It wasn't dark enough to shut my eyes.
So I was with you, O sweet compassion.
Yes I was with you, O sweet companion.
Compassion, with the sting of iodine..
Your saintly kisses reeked of iodine..
Your fragrance with a fume of iodine..
And pity in the room like iodine..
Your sister fingers burned like iodine..
And all my wanton lust was iodine..
My masquerade of trust was iodine..
..And everywhere the flare of iodine..
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2. |
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The man she wanted all her life was hanging by a thread.
"I never even knew how much I wanted you, " she said.
His muscles they were numbered, his style was obsolete.
"O baby, I have come too late." She knelt beside his feet.
"I'll never see a face like yours in years of men to come,
I'll never see such arms again in wrestling or in love."
And all his virtues burning in the smoky Holocaust
She took unto herself most everything her lover lost.
Now the master of this landscape, he was standing at the view
With a sparrow of St. Francis that he was preaching to.
She beckoned to the sentry of his high religious mood
[She said] "I'll make a place between my legs,
I'll show you solitude."
He offered her an orgy in a many mirrored room,
He promised her protection for the issue of her womb.
She moved her body hard against a sharpened metal spoon,
She stopped the bloody rituals of passage to the moon.
She took his much admired oriental frame of mind,
the heart-of-darkness alibi his money hides behind.
She took his blonde Madonna, his monastery wine,
"This mental space is occupied and everything is mine."
He tried to make a final stand beside the railway track,
"The art of longing's over and it's never coming back."
She took his tavern parliament, his cap, his cocky dance,
She mocked his female fashions and his working-class mustache.
The last time that I saw him, he was trying hard to get
A woman's education, but he's not a woman yet.
And the last time that I saw her she was living with some boy
Who gives her soul an empty room and gives her body joy.
So the great affair is over, but whoever would have guessed
It would leave us all so vacant, and so deeply unimpressed
It's like our visit to the moon or to that other star,
I guess you go for nothing - if you really want to go that far.
It's like our visit to the moon, or to that other star,
I guess you go for nothing - if you really want to go that far.
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Volume II Ithaca, New York
Things are born
Things are borrowed
Things are found
Some Things Disappear
Most are
Left behind.
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