Tanglewood As Therapy

TANGLEWOOD AS THERAPY Tanglewood untangled me, took my breath away each moment of Sibelius, Mahler, Rachmaninoff sweet violins, trumpets, kettle drums, cellos, fire mixed with wind, echoing within the shed, over the lawn, concert goers sprawled on blankets, seated on beach chairs attentive to every sound those strains, my favorite classics, filled my blood stream, inched me toward lovers, tugged me, two spouses proposed, suitors hugged my body, kissed me with gusto, whispered into my ears, became surrogates for melting chocolate cream, weakened my knees, laid bare my breasts, filled my groin, all from the moment my father took our family to the shed where I first heard Mahler’s First “The Titan”, not on a scratchy 78 platter, not from our wood cabinet radio in our Brooklyn house the melodies of democracy, free radio, modern media, fade, assaulted by the Kremlin loving leader. Russian composers crowd the classical repertoire, do not taint my delight, my passion, for the memories of past affairs are Picasso art filtered through Stravinsky, Prokofiev, and one therapist treating me for TRUMPRESSION