Oh, you should have seen it!
Oh, my God, what a sight!
A fully grown man writing poems at night
To the silly old flower blooming in the night air
As alliteration blossomed, off in his chair
To which I came attached one dusky evening
When I sat in our park, some stuffing in Spring
And déjà vu! My friend turned in dismay
And then, thank God, I heard him once more say – oh!
I call this the bridge because I’m not sure what else to call it — it doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the verses, and seems to serve as some kind of connective tissue. It is spoken more than sung, and at first I thought it might be Cale’s voice rather than Reed’s; but judging by the mic placement it has to be Lou, just using some oddly posh accent that sounds like a cross between Basil Rathbone and Gore Vidal.1
So are we meant to take this as a human man literally writing poems to a flower he’s fallen in love with? Well, why not? The more I listen to this, the more I realize that it was just Lou and John goofing around — which makes the fact that I have spent months analyzing it both embarrassing and weirdly appropriate.2
I mean, what’s so bad about goofing around? Especially now that spring has finally sprung and the flowers are starting to pop up all over. I might write a poem to a flower my damn self, but I promise not to share it here.
This weekend my darling wife (Happy Birthday!) told me that if you hold a buttercup under someone’s a chin and see a yellow glow, it means they like butter. Which in practice means that everyone likes butter. I think everyone likes buttercups, too; what’s not to like? Here’s a picture of one, and that’s all for today.