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this fiction of mine laboured tightly in the skull of memories and mysteries worked to the wheel by furies who deal the willing thread in...

Thursday, November 14, 2013

drama of exile

can you follow me _she utters in song
set in rock and oblique with innuendos
she addresses the sunrise on the deep self
it arises from under a deluge of keyboard
dissonance disparate and unyielding
_a summons to one who made her his own_
to the lawns of dawns then anon in marble
where a child had a spree in the wild thus
the grain of backwoods outlands deserts
in songs declaring the absence and naming
the absent well known legends as her own
who would not follow your call certainly
we had our fill of distress and caresses
with good times and warnings roped high
in the wind blowing through hearsay road
blocks milestones beyond hill and ravine
we trickled to the pool the record shops
the passes where did all begin and end
a journey with roses from koln to the sun of
ibiza _mirth birth reverie in her own words

it was an unfortunate play to begin to know
the shadows on your smile as if bitter shrouds
and yet ready to become a debutante in rock
with a script mirrored in your own memoir
how was it devised among kilikini nadett and
you to sell the drama as a chore paid for
in advance and have it ended a royal foul up
with a double score _a strange device of sorts

i read about the cover shot being on the stairs
ascending somewhere in the paris subway loaded
her eyes witness the unremitting exile _the

street awaits heroes and the end (uncertainly)

The "remake" released on Invisible Records_   

When did I begin to be moved by your songs, and with no reason apparent.  I was living in Buffalo when someone turned me on to that album with the banana cover and all those songs marked  ‘forever’. Suddenly you were fixed within my walls -a loadstone- with only three songs you made us believe you.  That was all, there was no more about you.  And it was albums galore in the milk crates, with the most imaginative covers and there were comings and goings plenty, but no one knew about you.  We didn't even know Chelsea Girls existed.  The Marble Index was not available, so we had to send for it to some place in San Luis Obispo, California.  Yeah, we were down.  And  I still didn't know your name, well, you were just Nico.  The action kept growing hot.  I used to hang out in the West Side and all around.  I was happily surprised when the Kevin Ayers live album came out and you appeared, and then thrilled with The End release.  We were so down.  And finally when I found out about Desertshore, it was nowhere to be had.  I got it at long last at Record Theatre as an import around 75, and that was my take of the Classic Years.

Recently I tried to get the link for the music on the CD of the same title.  I was successful. I’m aware of the many Live recordings that have surfaced after her death.  I imagine they call for mandatory listening.  In the meantime I rest in the shade of YouTube and muse on an occasional memory. Like when I walked on Elmwood Avenue just short of the Buff State campus and went into ``Play it again, Sam`` where they had them Roir casettes and discovered Nico live in Europe 82-83 ( and Johnny Thunders Live and Television with the Little Johnny Jewel cut ), all of which I brought to south america and lost, with everything else, in the flood.  It's kind o'late, maybe tomorrow I'll dig out Drama of Exile and give it a reading (I know it needs some dusting off).  Like I said, she's been an inspiration since always, or didn't I mentioned...                                                                                                                              

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