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Sunday, March 27, 2011

Anna Beth Aquarius

by Martin Bemberg

We have been, or had been rather,
The edge of each other's summers until tabouleh,
But being of a certain ilk we knew each other's faces and creations,
Knew as if we've known since birth, or, at least, since we began to ponder
Things like mirth derived from faces and creations.

Stoned, you steered as we were hearing hymns I know
And hymns I don't, but want to know.
I said I'd not heard hymns I wrote, not on a stereo,
And you said, "I just inherited a stereo."

You said, "Do you know?" and I said, "No,"
But later at that bar which welcomes 'til it has to serve the masses
And their never altruistic comes and gos, my housemate elder asked the same,
Asked "Do you know?" and I was pleased to say, "Anna Beth Aquarius told me so."

Once a woman woke me,
Made me teach her Prufrock
As she listened to dubstep,
And I cooked my own breakfast
Of toast and over easy.
When you wake me
You get me stoned
And I say things like,
"I grow weird, I grow weird.
Shall I shave or save my dirty beard?"

You say there's nothing wrong with an earth or pub filled with soul mates,
No matter falling towards their future graves nor swimming in their ales.
I say the ground and its grails will carry us, Anna Beth Aquarius.

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