Saturday, January 3, 2009

33 or Why I Wish I Wrote 'Suzanne'

Mr. Cohen,

How you guide me, 
Through night time struggle
And being lost in the sheets,
And how you speed me on,
To attempt after attempt,
Until I've cracked my head
On all four walls.

And I'm still trying 
And some nights it works.

Mr. Cohen, 
Some nights I'm pleased with the words.
And some nights, 
The words are pleased to be free,
But most nights
I just sit up and pretend to hear your words
And the cotton smoke crackling
Of vinyl rotating at Thirty Three R.P.M.


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