November 21, 2017Rrose Sélavy No Longer Sings ‘La Vie en Rose’
How many years can a woman pose for a man
in the same bad hat and ratty fur
before the world goes gray before her eyes
and even la-de-la-de-la-de-la sounds like the blues?
How many nights can she lie alone while
the avant garde goes galloping toward the future
on their hobbyhorse? I tell you, my heart may belong
to da-da, but even an alter ego needs l’amour
which is more than a mere word and goes beyond mechanics.
Love—so easy to make, yet more difficult to create
by far than art. That’s why some people call
this kind of song a torch. And I keep singing—
la, de, la—to make something burn.