The Same Old Song                                           

            “How can you?” she expostulated
            For the hundred thousandth time
            I lifted up my headphones for a moment
            And went back to listening
            You see, I didn’t think
            That anything was better
            And I found in each interpretation
            Something marvellous and new –
            The smallest nuance stood
            Like Hercules before the lion
            And subtle shifts became
            Vesuvius to my ear
            Not having much of one
            She couldn’t understand
            Nor did she know,
            Until I finally had the guts
            To tell her to her face,
            That I’d grown tired of
            The same old song she sang
            A long long time ago
            She left the room but,
            Glancing back, replied
            That she had tried out many different tunes –
            Successfully –
            Through all these years


            Emanuel E. García, The Virtues of Calamity, One Hundred Poems2013

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