Blink

June 15, 2012

 

Angela was over again and we were happy for the minute. My parents were there from the dead and from the life. I haven’t seen my dead father since the last time I dreamed he was alive. He had never died in the last one. This time I knew he died and came back over and over. Sometimes I acknowledged he was back from the dead. Like this one. They were mad at me and they kept riding my ass. Angela was there and I didn’t want to say or do anything stupid so of course I did. I started screaming at my parents about all and nothing. When my father started back on me I yelled back.

 

“Yeah, well you’re the one that keeps coming back from the dead!” I screamed.

 

Angela was crying. Everything stopped. I felt so bad.

 

“You know I hate when you yell at your parents. You know I have problems with that.” She said.

 

Angela walked to my porch as if she was leaving. I kept apologizing to her and turned my head to apologize to my parents.  I felt so bad my knees cracked with tears. My bones trembled with fear of loss of what I might have had if only I was a tolerant kinder person. She. She was breaking up with me and I was helpless like in those dreams when I find my self naked in the middle of a department store.

 

Blink.

 

Angela and I are at an old movie theater and all is swell. Swollen you can say. I said. No kinks in the love. All smiles whilst holding hands like professional lovers that have been at this game longer than each of us has lived. I catch her catching me catching her looking at me and we laugh until we smell smoke. Someone burnt popcorn I thought. Flames came up through the floors I carried her down the charred rippled weak stairway to uncertainty. She held me tight with a magical look of “if we go down at least it’s together.” We made it just in time as the Fire People squirted. Squirted the last flame out.

 

Out of nowhere a white man dressed as Jimi Hendrix appears in the lobby as Angela and I are trying to leave the burnt building. It turns out to be my friend Tony and he is with Rolland and Jesse. I didn’t question why he was dressed in his garb or colored face. I accept too many things at face value (no pun intended) too much. Too many times. Like why was I with this beautiful girl as my eternal lover out of the blue pink and red?

 

“I wonder if I can buy the posters and movie star cut outs in the movie theater?” Rolland asked with no greetings or concern of our health or the fire.

 

Jesse was silent and patted us on the back with a “it’s going to be ok” vibe.

 

It was ok. I still had a friend and I had Angela.

 

I’m so grateful in my dreams.


Time Travel is Not My Primary Concern Chief – THE POEM

February 21, 2012

Sickness of my psyche

Rapes my body furiously

Like a grape devouring a sunset

Exhausting my entire vessel

I am vacant and wearied

 

I run in slow motion to

The food truck of love

Careful to avoid every crack along the way

To avoid herniating my dead mother’s discs

 

Hopscotching the bricks of the city with

Carmelita as she flirts and leads me on and over to

Successive numbered city blocks until she has

Vanished permanently from my sight

I move on lost in the darkly lit city

Lost in my contemplations

 

I find my filthy white car and

I try to drive it around as people cheer me on

I leave them behind and fall asleep at the wheel

 

I wake up in my motel room and I try to wake up

And pack a weeks worth of belongings into my

Two suitcases

Panic fills my essence

 

Relief arrives in the form of Carmelita the motel maid

In my room with the manager telling me to take me time

He lifts her skirt to reveal her big pantyhose covered ass

They tell me to help them and I can stay for free

Arousal versus my need to flee

 

The sickness of my psyche


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