The Grapevine Art & Soul Salon
WHY WE LOVE ATLANTA
One advantage of having an online journal is its virtual reach over a range of cultures and into the lives of as many readers as we can find who in turn find interest in The Grapevine. We are grounding our journal by paying attention to Atlanta, north by northwest in the state of Georgia, USA, Planet Earth, where most of us who write for The Grapevine live and move and have our being. In this issue, we are bringing up something from the past to connect with our ongoing Museum celebration of the life of Leonard Cohen and to celebrate Nancy Law as a poet she keeps hidden until someone like Leonard Cohen comes along.
by Nancy Law
Leonard Cohen, You're My Man!
The Fox Theater pit,
three rows from the stage,
sitting slightly left of the microphone,
I wait for his arrival.
I squirm, stand up, sit down,
drink coffee, join in conversation
with the couple behind me,
admire the starry night sky
on the Fox ceiling
take pictures of stage hands checking equipment,
tuning guitars, strategically placing glasses of water,
share memories with my sister.
Finally,
backup singers and musicians walk on stage.
Then my lover comes on.
With 4600 other fans, my affair begins,
but I know I am the only one.
Seems so long ago, Nancy.
That's a song he wrote about a sad life, and now
he must be looking for me.
I become the microphone he caresses.
Every song selection, every gesture:
smile, bow, tip of the hat,
kneeling to the floor, and thank you
is meant for pleasure.
When it is time to leave, he says
he hopes I am satisfied.
I am. Best concert I've ever had.
I want one.
I want a Leonard Cohen for home
and not just for his song.
Where can I get one?
Online catalog? Amazon.com? E-bay?
Can you tell me, L. Cohen?
Sincerely, N. Law