Saturday, January 14, 2006

Angels of the Love Affair

I just took a long walk around Astoria, to buy the dog a new leash among other things, and I am a soggy mess now, as it has been raining on and off all day. Lito is sitting in there drinking a cup of coffee, Meow Kitty and Miss Girl are stepping their Clash of the Titans up a notch, I'm typing this while I smoke a cigarette and contemplate what I will wear now that my original outfit for the day is wet, and waiting on Scatty Damn Arbuckle to holla so we can go the Queens Center Mall of all places. And I'm pissed because my gift certificate did not come from the Ebay seller, so he was sent a gentle reminder rather than the threat of negative feedback that all Ebayers dread! This is just a day in the life of nobody.

So here's a poem that kind of honors this day. It is from "Angels of the Love Affair" which is really like four poems in one. This is the first section.

(Anne Sexton)

Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime,
that green mama who first forced me to sing,
who put me first in the latrine, that pantomime
of brown where I was beggar and she was king?
I said, "The devil is down that festering hole."
Then he bit me in the buttocks and took over my soul.
Fire woman, you of the ancient flame, you
of the Bunsen burner, you of the candle,
you of the blast furnace, you of the barbecue,
you of the fierce solar energy, Mademoiselle,
take some ice, take come snow, take a month of rain
and you would gutter in the dark, cracking up your brain.

Mother of fire, let me stand at your devouring gate
as the sun dies in your arms and you loosen it's terrible weight.

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