The progresss of my style


I rarely think of you darling
Tonight I indulge myself
remembering the beauty you lost
in your thirtieth year
but I can't get off on it
I have no altar for my song

I'm living with a woman in Montreal
My inspiration failed
I abandoned the great plan
Among other things
I got wiped out
by several charismatic holy men
I wish there was a tree and a café
with my best friend talking
Thighs from my old poems
would help
None of these items can appear
for political reasons

Perhaps you can detect
that I still try for music
idle music for the very idle
you might say unemployed
working to reach you like a computer
through holes in the paper


Leonard Cohen, ''The progresss of my style'' (from'' The Energy of Slaves'')
Photograph by Roz Kelly, 1967.

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