Backgrounds on Socialism

The bass sang Mephistopheles—
Unerring—a whimsical production
Woven by the golem,
Pieces of old clockwork and mechanics,
Put apart meticulously.
Their precision was elusive,
No engineers or stage technicians set about the stage—
Only singers choiring out a Margarita in soprano. 
The Metropolitan had done it better. 

The French could never emulate the masters. 
I have nominated Wagner for his erudition, 
But you defended Donizetti. 
And so we went, through an afternoon of black stilettos, 
Made-to-order suits, and subways, and champagne. 

(Only it was my imagination, 
Just like a selfsame dose of crude imagination 
Brought me back to you.)

You thought it would be prudent to show me a Puccini.
And so we lingered through an evening of pistachios
And films and varicoloured ices. 
An equinox was drowned in smoked perfumes.
I have tried on all my dresses just for you. 

Remind me who it was 
Who took you to Elektra—
Fantasies misapprehended.
Remind me who it was who fetched the evening tickets, 
And then I was appalled. 

(I would not have minded, only now, 
Drowned in whiskeys and idolatry, 
You taste a whiff of countermanded luxe.)

Shut off researching secrets.

You seem only to recall the time I shut you out. 
But when I came running—
Through the disapproval and unorthodox selection, 
Among the differing ideologies and discrepancy in years, 
Beneath a starlight bent to undermine a mere idea…

You touched upon selective memory. 

No, the Germans always were insufferable. 
Nietzsche said so, after all, a talk
Of pentatones in Parsifal and a sickened German youth.
You showed up in my hallway uninvited. 
(Forgive me my prolonged insomnia;
It only kept me back from weaving midnights into you.)
A month elapses, and Adorno shatters the composer, 
Just as you have shattered a philosophy—
(But that was shattered elsewhere long ago!)—
This is like the rogue disease from Wagner. 

Well, I have been decadent; 
I have learned of chalks that draw eternal lines,
Whereas on the blackboard chalks appear amenable, 
One conclusion seeping through another, 
Marks that dally with erasure. 
Well, to think that permanence was once a concept 
I did so casually desire! 
Remind me nevermore to think once out of line. 
Clemency necessitates forgetfulness and change. 
I do not understand what you remember, 
But I know you won’t remember promises. 

Do not remind me of such callous truths. 

I have expended all my youth on an illusion; 
The Pegasus has since forgotten how to fly.
Shall I contemplate a ticket for a plane
Before they raise the prices to belie camaraderie. 
I shall leave the wishing up to you.
And did you know that certain 
Russians do not like to share their rooms?