Never go back to look for them,
those things you lost,
not just things, like your hair,
or a favorite pocket knife.
Remember 'Teddy Boys' ?
You were born too late
to wear the slim suited, drain pipes,
velvet collared -
all that duck-assed brylcreemed cut,
so why keep looking for what was never you?
There was a time
when you were always au courante,
always abreast of yourself.
Billy the Kid had nothing on your swagger.
Oscar Wilde and Dorian Gray
packaged for eternity,
Bogey and Becall - bundled,
but you kept going back
to look for what you missed
and so missed the train
to Dorking Surry,
and never met that girl.
It started on D - flat,
succulent & succinct
soft & rhythmic
loaning hearts pats.
the wail of the piano
caressing the voices' glissando
riffs tampered with the tune,
notes trailing tracks of crest,
demisemiquaver pruned
by the demigod crochet:
parts of belts
accompanying baritone,
baroque & tormenting bass
nursing decrescendo,
an atlas
And then clef,
embellishing the melody,
encore spill the best,
swift fortemente
Hearts lured,
esophagus of the musician
shifting. Pure
steps moving in pleasure,
as the lyrics complimented
the melody
A coda:
a flat accompaniment
severed the passion
as the keys & notes did melt
tumult in rhythm,
sundry languages inflected
the lyrics.
like concerto grosso
of courante on
bagpipes, accordion,
harps, obeos & paino.
now we're stuck
in the maze of this music,
no virtuoso could make meaning of
the tune, lyrics or melody
but we're moving our bodies,
till those that gets weary
goes to hear death's string.
19:09:22:18:47
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