HOW MUCH IS THAT SOUL

HOW MUCH IS THAT SOUL?

I will buy your solace with a tear, quell your violence with my fear
And live my life with a plastic sort of cheer,
Hiding behind the waterfall like a prophet or a seer.

The days like nonsense huddle in the corner,
The years interrupted like prisoners of war.

And all the strange commotion that echoes loud with noise
Past the gorgeous hordes of women, the stunningly handsome boys.

My life is like some grayish sky, that begs the question why,
Seizing on the smallest thing, a household pest, a firefly.

And the summer nights, gentle against your skin,
Rub against my sleeping hope and bid it wake again.

Where are all the fag hags in their summer dresses,
Parading up and down the streets with their long, gay flowing tresses?

Where are all the young gay boys, burrowing like gophers,
Invisible to the untrained eye, standing aloof in their loafers.

Where’s the world that we belong, crashing parties at the pool?
I’m glad we’ve passed that whole world by, that we’re a bit old school.
Cocooning at home, episodes of Bewitched, alive and well on DVD
And a smattering of Picket Fences with its strange oddities.

The beginning and the end of stillness, a love that rises with the moon
And thrills my heart like the glorious sight of a big hot air balloon
Or the joy of rediscovering a long, lost childhood tune.

How much is that heart that beats loudly for me?
How much is that soul in the picture window?
How much that all consuming love that burns forever true?
I will purge my stash of rainy day cash
And go through all my savings to rise and follow you.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED