A Musical Interlude


Love: a poem

Love is like a large piece of cheesecloth attached to a revolving bowling ball covered in fructose and postage stamps.

Love is like a black velvet painting of Elvis; except one of the sideburns is missing, the jumpsuit is on inside out, and Elvis is a black midget.

Love is like a made-for-TV movie starring Pia Zadora and David Soul as wacky, suburban neo-Nazis whose refrigerator is on the verge of breaking down while the dog begs for neutering. (Dog!)

Love is like George Bush’s left, not his right, but his left testicle swinging gently in the airspace over Panama, glowing gently like a neon ball or something, while the barefoot children beneath fill their buckets with chicken entrails and dream of Oldsmobiles and Saran Wrap.

Love is like Isadora Duncan, her svelte, taut, well-muscled body enwrapped in translucent, silk scarves suddenly swallowed whole by frogs with lisps.

Love is like bell-bottom trousers filled with lint, wax lips, empty Pez dispensers…but the lint doesn’t exist.

by Fish Karma (from the album: “Teddy in the Sky with Magnets” – 1991 Triple X Records)



  1. I thought this was going to be a Tom Robbins passage I was unaware of!

    “Who knows how to make love stay? Tell love you are going to the Junior’s Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if love stays, it can have half. It will stay. Tell love you want a momento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to paint a mustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and assure love that everything is going to be all right. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning.” –Still Life With Woodpecker.

    I think you’d like that book. It’s my favorite of his. I have it. I will bring it to you. Although every time I let someone borrow a book I sometimes never hear from them again, so don’t do that!

    1. Well, my friend of friends, fear not losing me or your beloved tome; I own a copy myself. In fact, to make the whole deal one that involves you and introducing me to the book, I will share this: I borrowed it from a library and never returned it.

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