My Sweet Lord

What Harrison does with “you”
in the fifth line—
Now, I can get a little lip quiver
A little tear, dink, from the corner of my eye when I want people to think I’m sad, when the situation calls, when I’m so overwhelmed with the absurdity of things
But not at my momma funeral,
Because that’s a farce, and with farces you constrain laughter,
Is my understanding
But what George does,
With that second “you”
My Sweet Lord
Strikes me as authentic
Motherfucker captured a moment of truth

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Franklyn Monk

Poet. Geek. Science fiction aficionado. General freak.
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