A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
This is what it’s like living with me.
My wife, not feeling well but having
to work, works at home like me today
and sits across the table. “Do you need
quiet?” I ask, before I put on some music
because I always play music while I’m
working and the kids are at school and
she answers, “No, it’s OK,” and I say,
“I’ll put on something mellow,” and go
looking for the music I want to hear.
In a few minutes my music starts to play.
First there’s the sound of the keyboard
then a snare drum and a voice going,
“Nuclear war. Yeah. Nuclear war. Yeah.”
When Sun Ra starts singing, “It’s a
motherfucker, don’t you know, if they
push that button, your ass is gonna go,”
my wife starts to laugh. “What’s funny?”
I say. “This is mellow?” she asks. “But
it is,” I reply, because Nuclear War is
actually one of Sun Ra’s mellower records,
but it begins with that title cut. And I explain
how this was a song Sun Ra actually thought
he could have a big hit on the radio with,
and that the tune is completely catchy,
though it does have that “motherfucker” in
the chorus. “And plenty of big hits have
the word ‘motherfucker’ in them,” I explain,
though at the moment I can’t think of any.
“But wait,” I say, “for those of us who are
old enough to remember there was ‘Raindrops
Keep Falling on my Motherfucking Head;’
it was a big hit for BJ Thomas in 1969,”
but my wife doesn’t believe it. “It was big
on the country charts,” I say, but she doesn’t
budge from her state of incredulity and
secular disbelief. Then I make myself some
sausage and eggs, and when I’m done eating
I ask, “Do you want some?” as I look at
my empty plate, knowing that if she’s hungry
I’ll be right back in the kitchen, warmed by
the heat of the stovetop, and glowing like
the songs that forever fill my heart with joy.
Copyright 20015 Jose Padua
Photo by Jose Padua of Maggie holding up her drawing of Sun Ra.