Sunday poetry

ABBA

for Brad Gooch

We snort all our coke
on the way to the party.
We bring the new album.
We dance while we listen.

The band is two women
whose husbands control them.
They do not speak our language.
Each syllable’s an obstacle.

They are in love with a man.
He is in love with another.
But they’re in no hurry.
They could wait forever.

And when they are out
on the make for a lover,
they’ll always find him.
They are the tigers.

We are stoned too stoned to.
We dance till we’re tired
and listen to lyrics
we mouth like a language.

What we feel, when we
hear them, is inexpressible.
We can’t put into words.
Maybe our dances show it.

ABBA lives for their music.
We long for each other.
They see what we’re doing.
They put it on record.

They play it, we listen.
We are absolutely stunned.
We feel, and they know
more than anyone can say.

~ Dennis Cooper