(a response to a poem by Charles Simic)
Playing with Flo’s
All Stars, damaged souls
Set to the accordion, the clarinet,
The drum, and the conceit of broad humor.
The poet returns from Bosnia with a rock song
Raging against the scourge of nationalism:
I’ve got these here ideas,
You’ve gone and left me here.
I’ve got these here ideas,
You’ve left me with these cares.
Lover, lover wait.
How many sisters have no brother,
Women mourning, more than two?
Will each build herself a sibling?
What materials will she use?
Is there silk to spare at market?
With what will the sister pay?
Precious stones she sold for food.
What will sister use for eyes?
Wood is fuel to stay warm with.
All her pearls, loved, were stolen.
Soldiers, leeches, they abound,
But eyebrows brothers do not make.
Lover, lover wait.
How many brothers have no sister,
Men in mourning, more than two?
Will each build himself a sibling?
What materials will he use?
Will he go and kill a pig?
Use its hide for her skin?
Will he break her neck from granite?
Drill the earth for her blood?
Will he melt an iron bar?
Forge his sister some new legs?
How many forests will he plow
Before replanting all her hair?
Lover, lover wait.
I’ve got these here ideas,
You’ve gone and left me here.
I’ve got these here ideas,
You’ve left me with these cares.
I’ve got this here idea,
You’ve gone and left me here.
I’ve got these here ideas,
You’ve left me with these cares.
Lover, lover wait.