A Real Piparoo

A poem one never truly understands, a piece of art that keeps pulling the eye, a surface texture that suggests a deeper meaning.~Laurie R. King

In college, when smokers asked
Do you have a match, I’d say
Superwoman comes close, but no.
I meant it. In Indiana, there were
people singing, I’ve got a gal
in Kalamazoo about me. I became
fond of Glenn Miller and the
Chattanooga Choo-Choo made me
grin. At football games, my friends
and I blew red kazoos, in love
with inside jokes.

The night I heard the lunatic sing/
scream? her Pink Floyd orgasms,
Nancy told me she’d played
that track for hours on mushrooms,
and her dark brown eyes welled
wordless knowledge so deep
I longed to writhe in that
same sick noise, parsing
the wild melody. To yell/
ululate in ecstasy and that
was new. I’d only ever cried
in pain, then cut off abruptly
to that silent place that earned
a return to peace. Or at least
the end of physical torment.
I assembled all the tools,
replicated the experiment
and collapsed in laughter,
hypothesis abandoned as the
cosmic joke revealed myself
to me in all my sincere glee.

Written for the SoCs challenge to write (with no advanced planning, and no editing except for typos and links) a stream of consciousness poem prompted by Chew/Choo and these prompts: Match, Sick, Noise and Writhe.

Care to enjoy the sheer exuberant joy resonating in these tracks that ran through my head as I wrote?

Chattanooga Choo-Choo (y’all, this is such an awesome version, you will not believe the trombone wizardry! And then when the dancing starts, well, it’s a joy!–I promise you’ll wince at the flying splits.)

I Got A Gal In Kalamazoo (It’s seven minutes but you just gotta watch the Nicholas Brothers dancing!)

Great Gig In The Sky (For crying out loud, Claire Torry’s emotional mastery vocal duet with the piano–for which she was initially only paid 30 pounds!)

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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