I shake my head and say,
“It’s about her, man.
Every song is a piece of her.
The Eternal Feminine, as Goethe put it.
Put all the poems together
and they just add up to an incomplete
mosaic of the muse.”
I pause for effect.
“And what is a ‘muse’-ician…
If not the person who translates
the magic of a muse into music,
almost like a mathematician of the soul?”
(Asked the same question,
Russell shrugs distantly:
“A girl Ryan knows.
“I lost all my faith in the holy myth,
while the one I was lovin’
loved the one she was with.”
I say before braving the beyond.
Don't ever ask a poem
what his poems are about.