O June!
How Romantic
How Sweet you were to me
that surge of energy you injected with your kiss
like a lemon flavored cupcake
so tart, so sugary
And I, How I fell
from Grace with haste, so fast and carefree
just like a widened-eyed little child
A wild bird, I tumbled wrecklessly, helplessly
down through a tree with no one below
to catch me
And by July, how foolishly had thought I
that perhaps I could run and hide
But why bother now
to try to deny
when the truth is I didn’t want to stop
and really couldn’t have if I tried
How quickly August did follow
with a Lion’s roar indeed,
King of the jungle is he
When he came charging in
I felt he’d swallow me whole, and in the very first week
his intentions were clear to me
For it was solely my ego that he meant to eat
Down on the ground now is where I lay
awaiting September’s virgin
Her arrival only a few short days away
So I close m eyes and to her I pray that with her dawn
A goddess might raise
her voice and beauty, truth and mission in
So many words, with so much to say
I seek her good council and strength
that we may toil and harvest plenty for winter time
When this jumpy sprite will retreat and hide, cast away
in the darkness of her cave
She will return to play again
some sunny and far off day
when after the Earth had died and dried up
She shall embrace its Rebirth as another
enchanting phase
in this, Her ever-constant seasonal change
We may as well have lived on a spaceship. It was like an office place of work combined with a school. There were two wings, and the presentation of the stairs changed on either floor.
For some reason, I’d either fooled myself and the others by volunteering, or they were all more lost than I and chose to follow me. I led us to a door at the top where there were just two steps on the outside. One had to hop at an angle from these steps to land on the other roof. It wasn’t a hard to jump to make, if a person tried. But when my team of merry men and I arrived there was this one man standing on the side of the two steps and he wouldn’t move. No one could get good enough footing to jump around him, and onto the other side. I finally decided to go down stairs and get to the other side of the building by going through it and not over the top.
My new mission was to find the stairs on the other side. But I couldn’t seem to get through the place unbothered. I don’t know why but people were expecting me and looking for me. Apparently I had a friend in the cafeteria who was getting off work and we had plans to go somewhere. But I didn’t know about them. Some other people were trying to hang out with me too, and I was feeling very overly pursued so I hid in a walkway, through some doors. There were naked men everywhere. I assumed they were hired for the party.
There was an event going on, a celebration and everyone was gonna be dressed up. But all I was concerned with was getting to the other stairs. After hiding out in the cock-hall for a while, I slipped out undetected just as some of the people who were looking to harass me had slipped in. Then I ran into this kid I know who I can barely ever connect with on any level. He wore the only shit eating grin as he told me about all the people looking for me, and about the event going on tonight and asked if I was ready. Now, I had an understanding of the celebration, but I had no actual memory of having been told, of deciding to attend, or even wanting to celebrate anything.
I got fussy at my own confusion and wandered away from him, in something of a huff and a puff. I remember there being a girl with me, but I don’t know if she was the one from the cafeteria or not. I didn’t know who she was. We finally made it to where I lived. And lo, there was the celebration. And there were two particular men in attendance; one I would’ve liked to see, and one I could’ve done with out.
There was a great big fuss about how I choose to be grumpy and how I could just relax and enjoy the party and not make it a big sob fest. I felt completely attacked. I had tried to get one of the guys to leave the party, but I was told that just because I don’t like something someone says to me doesn’t mean I get throw a tantrum about it. At some point the one I would’ve liked to be there mumbled a series of numbers to me. I held his face, and looked into his eyes and asked him to repeat them. But he wouldn’t.
Last week was terrible for dreams. I wound up waking up in a cold sweat twice. Most of the dreams were heavy on the symbolism; nature, family, violence, confusion, wisdom, stuff like that. I managed to enjoy them even if the imagery was all a little over the top. I’d thought I was over this heavy dreaming phase though.
Then last night…my dream was basically a continuation of some retarded song and dance going on in my waking life, but there was just some extra disturbances. There was a cat who kept trying to suffocate another cat, by swallowing it whole. It tried to do it twice but the other cat kept getting stuck down its throat halfway and passing out. And the first cat would just stop and hold it there. I couldn’t figure out why second cat kept going to sit next to first cat if it knew that first cat was only going to wrap its mouth over its head and then try to swallow it but stop half way. Dumb.
Then I wound up having to take a bus somewhere, and it was August but like 40 degrees out and shit, and we were all by the water and people were wearing gloves and scarves, and I wondered how they’d all known the temperature was going to dip, but I didn’t…
And the cars drove on opposite sides of the street, like it was Europe, but it was really Long Island.
I used to not like live music. I was accustomed to the sounds I’d been accustomed to, what I heard on the radio. Brooklyn changed that idea real nice and quick. It started with Spiral Beach and this song, and this one too. They rocked so hard, the sound was so close. I couldn’t help myself. They made me move.
Wake up the next day and my whole shit is fucked up. Back of the neck, bottom of the neck, shoulders, all that shit. You don’t realize how much you use your spine and the surrounding muscles, et al, till they hurt. That was over a year ago.
Happened again this past Saturday night, when these guys played this:
There were other songs, but I’m pretty sure that was the one that did me in. It’s A-okay tho, cause Bushwick has spoiled me to live music in the best possible ways. My favorite bands are my favorite bands now because they’re hella fuckin good musicians, not because they had a shiny label cut a check to fine tune em. They’re already tuned, buddy. It doesn’t hurt that everyone here is a sweetheart either.
