Tuesday, August 04, 2020

She sets my mind on fire (For Kitty Kat)


I desire to unzip her mind so we can step out of time like in Doctor Who or any really good Victorian novel
I’d tell you what beckons me, but what would be the point of frightening you and putting you in harm’s way
The hellhounds on my trail are of my own devising and like any truly great and desecrated Blues singer I’ll go down dying from a bottle or a bullet to my head

Let’s forget dinner and skip to takeout Chinese and a tub of your favorite ice-cream
It’s been decades since I’ve drizzled butterscotch on anything worth giving pleasure to
That last line was intended to be tender, but felt more vindictive and nasty when it left my mouth-fingers and carpet bombed the cauliflower-ear-page

She sets my mind on fire as she has a tendency to do, it happens completely out of nowhere as I hunker down at the keys like a hunter or clown poet
I want to talk about Phil Ochs and not Bob Dylan for a change
I want to revisit Phil’s Gunfight at Carnegie Hall because for true Americana, it’s up there with the bald eagle and Woody Guthrie

Katie gets me like few do because she listens to my music undisturbed
Katie’s brilliant from top to bottom because possibilities are endless and lost horizons are just the tip of the iceberg
Kat’s on a first name basis with the angels in the architecture and knows just how important it is to never let them see you sweat.

Charles Cicirella

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