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an older frank sinatra sang lyrics from “the way you look tonight”/and they used it for a commercial/with stills of frank singing and smiling/and who knows what the commercial was advertising/but i trust it showed to frank/that he still had it/and was valued

a really old tony bennett/brought tears to lady gaga’s eyes/simply by recognizing her when she came out to sing with him/and they sang timelessly together/though tony was addled with dementia

glen campbell and alice cooper were golfing together/and glen told alice a joke early in the round/and then told him the same joke later in the round/and yet again before the round was over/but glen kept on performing on stage/and bathing in the applause/and he was still really good/and muscle memory kept his guitar playing astonishing

and i identify with and cheer for those old guys/and learn from them/that spending the last of your life making music/even when much of you is gone/is a glorious testament to “the show must go on”

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i was an art major in college/and jokingly told my friends and family/that i was getting an early jump on my retirement

turns out not to be a joke

i will be seventy-one before the end of august

and i blissfully spend hours and hours making things on the potter’s wheel

i turn lumps into cylinders and cylinders into chess pieces and goblets and vases and birds

and I watch with increasing detachment as another part of my mind slowly erodes

for instance I did a search on “glenn campbell”/because i’d forgotten that “glen” has only one n in it

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but back to “the way you look tonight”

it is a distant echo of the lines “And all that’s best of dark and bright/Meet in her aspect and her eyes” from “She Walks in Beauty” by george gordon, lord byron

“aspect” loosely translating as “the way she looks”

fun fact: “specchio” is old italian for “looking-glass”

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i don’t give a care about leaving a good-looking corpse

but i care fervidly about leaving some good-looking and well-made clay art

so I raise the “power turquoise” cup i made, and i raise it to you, whoever and wherever you are,

and say, though i cannot see you,

“Here’s looking at you, Kid.”

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Here are the words:

Labral tear tears algorithmic swaths against purr forming
And her fans w/oogs & aarghs feel empathetic trauma
Dancing w.abandon & an edge is OW so warming
Yanked off-tour & yanked O.R.ward is a Lady’s drama

Here are some notes:

In a previous post I posted a postscript to my blog post with an “Anyone else want to play?” skeleton of a future post. (Yes, there were five occurrences of “post” just now. Have some Post Toasties and bear with me…) The skeleton looked like this:

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I thought “Lady Gaga” would be an ideal starter kit for a fledgling acrostic poet. Alas, no one responded. Perhaps the ice-cream-truck-looking panel array or the internal lower-case additional acrostic elements put prospective acrosticists off. And who has the time nowadays?

Then it fell to me to complete the page. Knowing little about Lady Gaga beyond the notorious Meat Dress, “Poker Face” and “Bad Romance,” I took to Wikipedia, and then her official website, for background–and found she’d just had hip surgery. Also found she’s a philanthropist and, admirably, an avid anti-bullying advocate.

I wish I had done her justice. Alas, I think this page misfires to some extent. I now see her as a sort of Super Skrull of a modern female music icon, amalgamating characteristics of Cher, Bette Midler, Cyndi Lauper, Joan Jett, Madonna, Avril Lavigne, and Pink–and maybe Billie Holiday as well.

I wish you well, Lady Gaga, and I hope you’re back on stage soon.

Anyone else want to play?

Writing anapestically is as easy as waltzing. perhaps it is your…

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