Poem: Vicious

A poem about Lou Reed. He was a monster. And a huge influence. Why not both?

Lou Reed wrote “Sunday Morning”
on a whim. They needed one more
song — it was a throwaway tune
for the singer he wished he could
biff. Then, he got a sniff of the fact
it was going to be a the first single.

He pushed Nico to the side — for
the first of many times — and sang
the song himself. It’s the best vocal
of his career, so much so you might
say he doesn’t even sound like himself.
It’s not the type of conviction one

should see as being the model. But
then again, it almost is. A lot of fear
and hurt and confusion went into his
brand of coldness. A lot of sad energy
and loneliness and trauma-informed
response inside his version of boldness.