What is left to us really, an
An awkward cotillion in
Hazmat tuxedos?
It goes without saying,
Gowns --crackle of fabric
Fills our haunted hall and
All our wishes whisper from
The floor: we can't hear
The music anymore.
Strange to think confusion's
Call and random chance
Left us this ball, this dance.
Aw. It's really hard for me to imagine nostalgia over that song! But I liked your poem.
ReplyDeleteDear Mitty, for some reason I loved that song --and Mr. Pickett's several subsequent recordings on Doctor Demento's broadcasts over the years. He was part of the medium that just had fun, and we needed that. I also remember Karloff singing "Tiptoe Through The Tulips" around that time on a variety show. We needed fun. I'm so glad you like my poem. It was fun to write.
DeleteThat's a beautiful poem, no matter what inspired it.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Most kind, Janie. Pickett's performance in the clip took place in 2004, only 3 years before he left us. It was, I believe, his only "top 40" hit popularized (1963) when this country was entering a stunningly sad decade of assassinations predicted in Eisenhower's speech:"Beware the military-industrial complex."
DeleteI think the poem uses a song we all knew well back in the day to explain something current, the pandemic. Wonderful connection. Not quite a "what goes around comes around", I think, but a neat application of old to new.
ReplyDeleteDear Joanne, there are times when I suspect we are figments in the minds of future beings learning the basics of coexistence.
Delete