Suzanne Somers, Poetess

Via Gene Weingarten: Kristen Wiig performs a stirring poetry reading in New York.

She reads from this noble volume:

somers

For those of you beyond the reach of Youtube, here’s a transcription:

Sometimes when I’m sad and life is not what it seemed
And even sex
Is like a song I’ve heard too often

I remember my two week love
My underwear carefully selected
Nervous blotches on my neck, a choking voice full of cliches
And that stupid smile on my face.

Until you open the door and I felt the magic
Despite your fumbling hands,
The nervous cough
Your perfectly creased, coordinated casuals
And that stupid smile on your face.

We parried for a time, suggesting movies or a ride in the country
A study in awkwardness
Until someone made a move and we were making wild and crazy love
Before the ice had settled in our drinks.

It was only two weeks
But we loved.
God, how we loved
Until you had to go back home
With gifts for the children.

And though it’s hard to remember your name
And even your face
I remember it was really beautiful each time
And I remember to resurrect that love sometimes
When I’m sad.

Sometimes I wonder if there’s enough love to go around.
All the people I know grasp for it,
All the ladies whose husbands drift away
The men whose lives have forgotten to care.
The children standing on their heads to be noticed.
And, well, I might as well admit it, me.
What about me?
Sometimes I wonder if there’s enough love to go around
With all the pain and longing
But one thing is sure
If anyone has any extra love
Even a heartbeat or a touch or two
I wish they wouldn’t waste it on dogs.

I like the gentle quiet loneliness of being alone
Although I thought of a friend last night
And almost called but decided not to
Because my hair needed washing
And I don’t know him well enough to look like I really do.

I like the gentle quiet loneliness of being alone.
Knowing that someday soon something will grow until everything’s right
Not dramatic glances across crowded rooms
(I’m nearsighted, anyway)
It’ll probably be the houseboy.
Knowing that I will see in a special way
And I will want somebody to be near.
Meanwhile, I like the gentle quiet loneliness of being alone
TV in bed, and dreams, and smiles
Because I know it will happen someday soon, when it’s right
It’ll probably be the houseboy.


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