Bloody Sunday Blue

[serge gurkski]

for billy, Leanne ,-) and Anne Sexton:




Bloody Sunday Blue


Drowning deep into another lost Sunday
skipping Mass and falling
down
into
the warm sheltering arms of the Blues:

It's all so blasphemically beautiful
and now God, I pray make it last.

My happiness.

Preachers don't reach my
rebelling Southern Baptists'
heart no more

Did any of your kind
ever save

a single strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees?


Sweet smoke is all you have to offer.

And that
is simply
not
enough.

A poet friend brings my mind back to
Anne Sexton: I find the
mind-blowing beauty of her face
her lips, her voice,
the way she recites herself
when she's good with herself
and I don't care if she preaches
and her voice some times
gets too high on her own
sensitivity.

And I do not mind her
getting pathetic on the videoed
cloud of her mind.

http://youtu.be/UM6nWRXCQD8

And no and this to Leanne:
No: you can not if you are fair
compare Plath to Sexton.


I understand your disliking Plath
http://youtu.be/Y7ujeHnrT8A
.

but Sexton is Jazz
and yes, she sometimes gets larmoyant
but she still s(w)ings and her
words sink into me.

I know why: It is not the booze
but the pills offering a save haven

for some hours you can count down.


But then the pharmacy has closed
and you stand alone in another merciless night.

I would have loved her
because she's my kind.

---
oh: and for myself too.

Anne Sexton reciting her: http://youtu.be/ZDcARJqtqFs
but I could recite it better
this poem needs no Pathos-

wtf