This entry owes a huge debt of gratitude to author Ellen Raskin. If not for her writing, I cannot begin to imagine what I would have done with this entry. Probably some sort of zombie thing or other such nonsense. So, I guess you could say all you readers out there owe her some gratitude too, for sparing you from that fate.
With this kind of project, it can be easy to be literal with the songs. And at times, I certainly was. Probably more often than not. However, I tried to break from that at least occasionally and this is certainly one of those entries.
Not coincidentally, it is also a favorite of mine from the Project.
I am fascinated by relationships that end, but not really. You know, people who dated who become or stay friends, that sort of thing. I think it is probably, in part, because I am so lousy at it myself. I don’t seem to have that “gear” if you will. I kind of wish I did because I’ve dated some generally great people, but there you go.
Remember how I mentioned I was no good at poetry? If my earlier attempt was too whimsical to convince you of my assertion, this entry should certainly do the job. This is poetry in the aggressively obvious, aggressively mediocre mold.
The thing about this entry is I’ve never actually been into a gentlemen’s club, strip club, topless bar, whatever you’d like to call it. So, I didn’t really have an idea what one actually looks like inside.