howdoyouspellred

flamingo, alexander calder, chicago

i miss my city. smarter. stronger. i miss my city. its urban beauty. nitty gritty old. its public art. everywhere. the sharpness of color in the fall. brisk cold nights. its human face. not pretty. not perfect. not plastic. dirty brushed steel. i want my city. i need her back. meet me by the calder. she knows, at night. meet me by the picasso. a qué hora. by the chagall. i'll be there. by the miró. for lunch. by the dubuffet... remember, got  to renew your license. the nevelson. which one is that... the plensa. in the summer. the kapoor... under the heat of the bean... after midnight. alone by the lake. sinking in. let it be a sea. your sea of sorrows. away.

whatHappenstotheHeart::I never called it art

I was always working steady / But I never called it art / I got my shit together / Meeting Christ reading Marx / Sure it failed my little fire / But it's bright the dying spark / Go tell the young messiah / What happens to the heart

There’s a mist of summer kisses / Where I tried to double-park / The rivalry was vicious / And the women were in charge / It was nothing, it was business / But it left an ugly mark / So I’ve come here to revisit / What happens to the heart

I was selling holy trinkets / I was dressing kind of sharp / Had a pussy in the kitchen / And a panther in the yard / In the prison of the gifted / I was friendly with the guard / So I never had to witness / What happens to the heart

I should have seen it coming / You could say I wrote the chart / Just to look at her was trouble / It was trouble from the start / Sure we played a stunning couple / But I never liked the part / It ain’t pretty, it ain’t subtle / What happens to the heart

Now the angel’s got a fiddle / And the devil’s got a harp / Every soul is like a minnow / Every mind is like a shark / I've opened every window / But the house, the house is dark / Just say Uncle, then it's simple / What happens to the heart

I was always working steady / But I never called it art / The slaves were there already / The singerschained and charred / Now the arc of justice bending / And the injured soon to march / I lost my job defending /What happens to the heart

I studied with this beggar / He was filthy he was scarred / By the claws of many women / He had failed to disregard / No fable here no lesson / No singing meadow lark / Just a filthy beggar blessing / What happens to the heart

I was always working steady / But I never called it art / I could lift, but nothing heavy / Almost lost my union card / I was handy with a rifle / My father's 303 / We fought for something final / Not the right to disagree

Sure it failed my little fire / But it's bright the dying spark / Go tell the young messiah / What happens to the heart 

Leonard Cohen