Had I the voice-
( the opportunity of course)
and belonged to another era...
to have become a torch
singer,
melancholy,
pathos my song-
a diva of pain
draped in pearls,
satin
- a black and white vision
from the
'40s...
Though now I wonder
why always, sorrow pulls
me in-
and how, just out of high school,
I was thought of as strange-
still mesmerized by the Beatles'
"Yesterday..."
and my mother's records
( in Hungarian, at that)
fueled my brooding.
Yes, I remember all those
long- dead balladeers...
And my song,
it would bring tears-
that "good" hurt-
catharsis.
It wouldn't uplift
nor inspire-
wouldn't be a sappy, feel-good
" la la la."
Just darkness,
grunge even...
so dive right in,
close your eyes
as you lift your glass,
drink up,
sob and remember
only-
treachery.