Friday, April 24, 2020


New Music

The lovemaking grows more intense, not less.

Ten million men and women out of work

The price of a sound currency. Tim Page

Brings us "The New, The Old, The Unexpected,"

Two hours of new music every day,

Six hours of sleep, eight of work, and art

Simmers on the back burner with desire

For Fame, for Fortune, Rules: choose one, not both.

The reasons for not moving grow more lame.

Ten million stories in this naked city

And one of them is ours. I'm like Tim Miller

Spraying my name in paint upon my chest,

Reminding me of who I am. A man

By any other name's a refugee.

I shall not back away, but take my stand

Where love and honesty are one, not both.

It gets more complicated with the years

And less so. There must be ten million ways

Of making love, but all I need are three:

The new, the old, the unexpected. Grace

Is like New Music hitting with the foce

Of tidal waves, or like the atmosphere

So clear these mornings we forget it's how

We've always lived and breathed as one, no both.

I touch you on the eyes, and chest, and wrist.

Ten million dollars wouldn't change a thing,

The price of a sound mind. "Tim Dlugos knows,"

Voice-over from an old-time radio

Reminding me of where I used to be.

I'm here, and so are you. To make it art

Is easy when you're musical as we.

Live it or live with it: choose one, not both.

Tim Dlugos (1950-1990)
A Fast Life
Collected Poems
Nightboat Books, 2011