This piece was created after a very painful break-up. The real point falls in the last few lines of the poem. “Thank God for the poems. The impetus you did provide, to write, even if the inspiration is just an aside, Loretta Lovely, my inflatable deflatable ex-bride.
Pain for the artist can be a potent catalyst. It can be a force for healing. This work is both angry and bitter. It is also humorous and celebratory. Life is the stuff art is made of. Art without a sense of humor is boring and not worth living. Today is the day let us celebrate the hurt, the joy, the anger. Let us ride the crest of our laughter. Enjoy as I stretch the truth upon our imagination. I am foolish exposed as any vinyl doll. My naked heart cries exposed alone amidst the multitudes of you all.
I’ve been blowing you up all these years,
and deflating you, when exhausted
from the exertion,
taunted by the addiction of the
war games affliction,
of self-fulfilled prophecies,
all founded on the wrong hypotheses.
I adored your vinyl pout,
your protruding vulcanized snout.
My love destroyed by passion.
To this I enlist the reader’s compassion.
Your eyes twinkled blank.
Your breasts erect,
pointing forever forward,
like a double barreled tank.
My love so overpowering, my dear,
with inadequacies exposed,
I could never fully fulfill you,
the thought my fear,
after each encounter imposed
upon a darkened mind,
turned black and blue.
I had to let go,
thus to myself be true.
I blew you up once again.
Consumed by desire,
I propped you up,
next to the hearth
of my fire and mourned
at your funeral pyre.
The coldness inside you grew hot.
I took you out in the frozen night air,
completely stripped with nothing to wear.
I let you go.
True to the laws of nature,
I watched as you floated skyward.
For a moment I thought
I could see in those mindless eyes a tear.
In retrospect I would surmise,
a gift from God.
How appropriate in your demise,
the emotions never shared,
would in grief be prepared.
They would haunt me,
until in desperation see
the truth as I speak.
They found you impaled on
a mountain peak.
Although your departure bleak,
thank God for the poems.
The impetus you did provide,
to write, even if the inspiration
is just an aside,
Loretta Lovely, my inflatable
deflatable ex-bride.
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