Guest poem submitted by J. Goard:
(Poem #1937) Mimi on the Beach I scan the horizon for you, Mimi, I scan for the both of us... I scan the horizon for you, Mimi, I stand and scan on the strand of sand, Stand and scan on the strand of sand... But first I'm sitting over here. See that gaggle of guys and girls? A typical day at the beach, Well, typical 'til I make my speech. There is a girl out on the sea, Floating on a pink surfboard, With a picnic lunch and parasol, Sitting there like a typical girl. Well, this is not a locker room, And that's a surfboard, not a yacht; The arrangement's not... quite... there... One girl laughs at skinny guys; someone else points out a queer. They're all jocks, both guys and girls: Press a button, take your cue. And see the girl with perfect teeth? She picks up lonely guys in bars, Then takes off when they've bought her drinks. "Don't you have money?" I ask - "Of course I do!" This is not a locker room, here, And that's a surfboard, not a yacht; The arrangement's not... quite... there... But the day was faultless in beauty, Pitched on tropical scenery Stretched from white sand up to the open sky Down to the shining sea again and then back to me... And Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach... Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach Mimi and me... I'm still sitting over here. One guy just got up and brayed. They wag their words - they're all in heat - I can ignore it; just don't steam up the view. Mimi's still out on the sea, Floating on a pink surfboard; She's checking out her arms and legs In case her casing's getting burnt. This is not a locker room, here, And that's a surfboard, not a yacht; The arrangement's not... quite... quite... there... But the day was faultless in beauty, Pitched on tropical scenery Stretched from white sand up to the open sky Down to the shining sea again and then back to me... And Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach... Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach Mimi and me... You don't know me but I've been watching you all day, And I've come to the edge of the water now to have my say. The picnic lunch is off. Throw your parasol away. Put your belly to the board, Mimi, and paddle out to sea, Then turn the board around, Mimi, until you're facing me, Then you wait for the waves to start building, For the valleys to deepen And the mountains to increase in height, And when the right time comes, Mimi, You grab the edges of the board with your hands, Lift yourself up and stand there And see as far as you can see... Stand up, Mimi. Stand up! I scan the horizon for you, Mimi, I scan for the both of us... I scan the horizon for you, Mimi, I stand and scan on the strand of sand, Stand and scan on the strand of sand... The great leveller is coming, And he's not going to stop to take your pulse, And he's not going to ask you why you're the way you are, And I think that's the worst part: You never get a chance to explain yourself. And he's going to take those mountains And shove them into the valleys Until there's nothing left except a vast expanse... And you'll float there, Mimi, On the flat Sargasso Sea of your soul... And if they pull you away from your bleaching pink surfboard And stretch you across the wind, You'll make no sound, Wet leaves on a dry map, Nothing, Nobody, The great leveller, or the great escape? But the day was faultless in beauty, Pitched on tropical scenery Stretched from white sand up to the open sky Down to the shining sea again and then back to me... And Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach... Mimi on the beach Mimi on the beach Mimi and me... There's a girl out on the sea, Floating on a pink surfboard. A parasol floats nearby. The arrangement's not... quite... quite... there. |
Jane Siberry (now, apparently, named "Issa") is probably the most bizarre lyricist I've ever encountered, spinning dramatic monologues that would seem too profoundly insane to be believable if she didn't sell them so well with off-kilter rhythms and her quirky voice. "Mimi on the Beach" was her big indie hit from the early nineties, but I never really registered its lyrics until recently. I love this portrait of a bitter wallflower -- or is it a homicidal stalker? -- fixated on the singular importance of "Mimi and me", or, if you will, "me, me, and me". "The great leveller is coming", indeed, but is it the inevitability of death or aging, or the flatness of a "real world" outside of surfing, or "me coming to kill you"? (There is a sequel from a later album called "Mimi Speaks", but I dislike its overly blunt attempt at resolution.) However you hear it, it's a truly weird, cool song close to the heart of "new wave". J.
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