The Crying God

by Michael Brownstein

Here I am again
Getting sucked in
Listening to the Velvets’ first record
Over and over the same songs
I remember like it was yesterday
The night in ‘67 I first heard them
In my rattletrap apartment on East 13
All Tomorrow’s Parties
I’m Waiting for the Man
Run Run Run
Venus in Furs
Heroin
I’ll Be Your Mirror
Black Angel’s Death Song
And before I know it I’m crying
In spite of my need to stay present
Kiss the distant past goodbye
What did those times ever do for me
Living in the city from ’65 on
City that grabbed hold of me
And wouldn’t let go until
It smacked me in the face
And everybody saw me falling

Unlike my life now
Anchored in salubrious mountains
Taking care of myself
Healthy self-image
Eating well, getting enough sleep
Plenty of exercise
Associating with reasonable people
But I’ll never forget the labyrinth
Of late-night streets, wobbling strangers
Holding onto each other with all their might
Seeing their reflections in shattered mirrors
No idea who they’d be the next day
“Gonna take a walk down to Union Square
Never know who you’re gonna find there”
And once I start crying
It’s mid-afternoon here, the sun is shining
Yellow flowers blooming in the yard
Everything in its place but nevertheless
Once I start crying I can’t stop

The people I knew then either
Stone cold dead or if they’re still alive
Leading safe, self-protected lives
No resemblance to who they were
Of course these are different times
Today’s pricey GPS city an afterlife
Version of what it used to be
The labyrinth boiled into mush
Voices I treasured long gone
But I hear them again now
Carried to me on wings of song

And I can’t pull myself away
The Velvets’ first record
Mo’s drums nailing it to the wall
Sterling’s guitar weaving in and out
John’s viola and piano, mystery
Undertow, circular trance
Lou’s voice pushing harder and harder
“I’m gonna try for the kingdom if I can”
And Nico flat as a frozen river
“She’ll turn once more to Sunday’s clown
And cry behind the door”
All of it heavy with a majesty
Never heard from before or since

And while I’m listening I am none other
Than the hidden Aztec crying god
Weeping god of fire consuming time
Consuming names and faces and it’s true
He found his way out of the labyrinth
Always making the right moves
Strong of body and clear of mind
But when he’s seduced
By old ghost memories
As bright as the moon
Plunging headlong to Earth
He realizes he has nothing really
It’s all gone up in flames
And no matter what he tells himself
He can’t stop crying