Saturday, January 30, 2010

dreams @ 7,000 ft. (pt. ii)


(flying around town) late afternoon, i am walking down a sidewalk. suddenly, i realize i can float, and hang a few feet above the ground. spreading my arms like wings, i fly forward at a gradual pace and test my new abilities. moving into a park, i bank left, then right, and upward through the bare branches of a tree.

others are watching, and i realize i must concentrate to be able to fly. moving beyond the park, i drop down to the sidewalk again. i am walking now, in front of my old gallery. the building is run down, and guys are walking in and out, using the abandoned space as a restroom.

i pivot and fly up and around the corner, now through an empty field. a convertible is following me on the dirt road alongside the field. my best friend from high school is in the front seat. jesus, in the form of a black man with long hair flowing in the wind, is in the back seat.

i give jesus a knod and bank off into the distance.

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(girls at basketball arena) i'm sitting on the top row at the basketball arena with my mom and dad. the game is going on way below. a few rows down, on the aisle walkway, two girls walk by. one stops and looks up. i smile, catching her eye, and hold it there for a few seconds. she smiles back, and bends down, beginning to reach for something from beneath her dress.

still fully clothed, she pulls out a bra and panties, velvety purple, and throws them up to me. i catch them, then lean down as they start to walk away. i ask her name, and she stops. what's your facebook?, i ask, and she smiles.

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(art show improv) i'm walking through the halls of an elementary school with the new gallery director. under my arms i hold the drawings i have made. turning a corner, they fall from my arms onto the ground, and scatter. i bend down to pick them up, and notice an old love note on blue paper, torn to pieces, lying on the ground.

gathering them all, i walk with the director to the gallery, an unwieldy freestanding stucco wall outside the building, punctuated with a window and doorway. not much room to hang art on. he says "how much time do you need for the install? we can start the reception at 12:45, or 1:15 if you prefer." that's an hour from now...

i decide to improvise, and hang my drawings and assemblages, overlaid with pieces of the love note and other past memory ephemera, salon style on the oddly shaped walls. i like this idea, and think "this is gonna be a good show".

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

* footnote to footnote to howl *

holy, holy, holy, holy, holy, holy, holy!
all existence, connection, and touch,
the tongue, the flower, the flowing waters,
all places, change and being,
each an angel masquerading in time.

the salty cold wet of the east river
the faked in black eye of an aging skaterboy,
dark alleyways, pulquerias, mariachis for hire,
everyone stacked in the back of a van,
barefoot, sneaking in by a south beach backdoor.

an artist crawling by candlelight,
a chord growled from darkness,
a prisoner underground waiting to emerge,
old woman in the elevator asking "do you go down?"
the year of bleeding profusely, of sacred revelations and betrayals.

chaos, liquid form and structure,
dirty dancing with the girls at a gay club,
stories told, retold, and changed along the way,
holy Robert, holy Michael, holy Val, holy Mary, holy Thor,
sing along and change the words.

playing in the night,
eating, drinking, smokey hookahs, secret recipes,
from this night on we are the party,
the sacred intensity of Riley's ink,
backyard yurts and quiet lonely nights.

diving into ice cold pools and shivering
nothing but stars and a moon crossing the sky
the beauty and affliction of John's line,
one long live serenade of truth,
singing along to such glorious insanity, the only way.