Tolstoy

I knew a girl once,

her name was Holly,

we were lovers,

I met her in Florida,

she lived in Pennsylvania,

she used to come to New York

and Connecticut to visit me

when I was in the navy,

she was insatiable,

we once made love six

times in a row,

it was a personal best,

she married a trucker

she met on the road

while driving from Connecticut

back to Pennsylvania,

I don’t know what became

of her after that;

she made me happy;

Tolstoy was human too,

despite great efforts to

prove otherwise,

he lived,

he loved,

he laughed,

he disappointed,

he failed,

he tried to grasp concepts

and ideas,

beyond human reason

and understanding,

but he was human

after all,

we all are,

on our own;

we can be nothing more;

there are things greater

than ourselves,

but only a few

ever find them,

things greater than living

or dying,

eating and drinking,

war or peace,

making love to

beautiful young girls;

the Tolstoyans had it

all wrong,

just as the Bolsheviks,

the Luddites,

the Communists,

the Catholics,

the Republicans,

the Democrats,

and a thousand other

man-made institutions,

organizations and religions,

it is much deeper,

far more profound,

than anything our simple

human minds

can comprehend;

Tolstoy understood this

better than anyone;

Holly,

if you’re listening,

thanks for the memories.

.

.