your tail was striped with linen and salt
I count the moments where I understood

conceive
this new melody of hyper-action, dis-connection

make it to the moon
and tell me then

Ouaohs your stomach-ache-oh

Killing the top of the ratio

filter fil-te-r f-i-l-t-er that catttttttterpillar!

take me take me take me take me take me take me out
to the ball game
take me take me take me take me out
to the seaside

t-t-t-taaa ta ta tam tam du bum bum

ouahosyourstomach-ache-oh!

Up on the

ceiling

wondering what

her intended reply would be
like

in a million light

years

Saw a map
floating somewhere between
redemption and luck.

"I just didn't wannawakeup! (d-d-d d-d-d!)
 I just didn't wannawakeup! (d-d-d d-d-d!)
 I'm tellin' you--just didn'twannawake uuuuup (dr-dr-dr du-du-du!)
 Uuuuuup I'ma tellin' you!..Just didn't wanna, wake, wake, wake, up"

Shouts from a Screamin' Jay Hawkins donning storm-of-a-girl
Waking me up in three in the morning, ready oh so ready! To shatter the lives of many.

To infinity and beyond, my good friend.

Where I'd first smelled the sea breeze, tumbled up in time and longevity, grace, and a bit of a nap.
A sunny nap. A good nap.

A hole in the endless extent of a single day,
encouraging me to keep on sleeping.

I'm only sleeping, I'm only sleeping..

Black ocean tides, smell of benzene and something other
Something Warmer.

*          *          *

Fiddling with a little disaster that could've taken place (but not really, not really, at all...)
The tantrum throwing schemes, the terrible scenes of unattempted crime (tempting!)
The shadows lurking in the hems of my bedroom curtains, just waiting for pedestrians to take notice.
I'm here, I'm not here; where d'you think I'd be?

Trapped in the dark auditorium while the storm blew the rest of the houses away,

she, looking at the bruise on my left elbow; "What d'you do?"

"I don't remember," I mumbled, "Think it had something to do with horses and tractors."

"And red fences?"

"Yes. And red broken fences, actually."

Then we exchanged our funny greetings and went our own ways.

Right or Left?

All my loving people were seated, chummed up, at a banquet table.
A best friend catches my eye and ushers me to sit next to him. "C'mon!"
But I spot an old lover and can't help but to sit next to him instead.

Grief. Guilty delight. A little bit of mischief-happiness.
I'm sorry, but I'm really not.

We talk about good California Chardonnay. He astonishes me by choosing the right words.
Apologises for not making it to dinner the other night. "That's quite alright." I shrug.
"No, I'll make up for it soon anyway," he gleams,"and not now. Now, I am temporarily occupied with choosing the right kind of anise for my new dish."
"What dish?"

The table freezes. Murmurs; "Anise, is it? That's in this extraordinary dinde du chocolate...?"
He shrugs (muks). "Yes yes. Still on the road to perfection, alas..."
Cheers, excitement, a lovely chaos. Another best friend (the dearest of all kinds) exclaims;
"I just KNEW you'd marvel us one day!"

And I love him.

A boy in a crowded morning deli, staring out the window.
In the most humorous of all ways! I turned round across the windowpanes to paint him a song.
It started out just jiggly, but came out funnily chappy.

A young girl came by to take his orders---"So kid, what do you want?"
A sophisticated look is borne in his blue yonder eyes; "A Night Cap if you do not mind."
"Sure. With free range milk?"
"Yes," he nodded, and was already gazing out of the window.
Watching the whole world just slowly crawl by.

His name was Jamie, I just know it.

"Oi, d'you wanna hear my Whatnot Story?", she says, absolutely beaming. A blazing sun.
I am quite happy enough to think, "well....!" (but instead retreat to my heap of purple feathers in the corner). "Yeah---so let us hear it."
"Well first," she starts, "I had an impeccable image of a young Paul Newman."
"An impeccable image you say?"
"Yes. The night was moving all so very fast, you see...so I saw this Paul Newman just right in front of me, his body being flanked all  over the place by passerby 2 ton trucks and whatnot..."
"...so you were just running all over the poor guy..."
"Yeah...and the next thing I know, I have this GIGANTIC squirmish paint blob on my face. In fact, everyone does. Paul Newman had somehow cursed us all with this magnificent whatnot."
She licked her lips thoughtfully. "So what colour do you think it was?"
"What colour WHAT was?"
"The paint blob, of course."

Uhm, orangey-yellow?

"So <time> left the <theatre?> for a traceable adventure,
only to find itself within another god's hands. <seclusion> <idolization>"

(And I kept thinking to myself--what is it with all those clothed quotes?)

Swimming in a light blue, the light-light-light-lightness of all.

Just wanted to hold that hand, but someone let go of my body first
I launched into midair, flung out, ----thomp!
An orbit racing the world, colourful tails of stripes and glitter.

What do these tales tell me
On this quiet altitude?

Wanted so badly to join in the fantabulous GAY PARADE that was set to be held in the middle of springtime---
then I woke up and realised that it was only a dream.

There was rain, sudden amounts of it arriving to our windowpanes like a storm of BirthdayPresents;
nobody had yet quite touched the food banquet provided.
The teacher had squirreled around the school for boxes of frozen paninis, french fries, cannolis, and some soup--I offered some to one of my friends, not taking any myself.

A boy I've known for a long time kept helping himself to my mother's homemade veggie stew.
He somehow missed the carrots, all lying in a heap of liquid in the camel-coloured bowl.

The windows turned pitch black, then silver--then a blaze of red, green, and blue. Like when the telly goes a bit berserk. There was, in fact, so much rain that nothing could possibly be seen from these windows. I was the sole witness of this momentary phenomenon, taking place just seconds before the windows begun to crack.
The glass was giving in.

"C'mon," I hollered, "Gather round here so we won't get hurt......!" I paused, reflecting upon how awfully heroic I was acting up. I shrugged; the broken bits of glass stuck in my fingers from last week's wine glass had no doubt boosted me into this level of sheer naivety. "Better hurry or the glass will----"
BREAK

She had her head held up high, simply in awe.
Wondering if I would ever answer..

The scene was an open reception, an all-you-can-eat gathering of somewhat peculiar dishes; clumsy, colourful terrines made from Mangos/Asparagus/MoldyPeaches/SageSausages/PickedSardines/PinkBitsOfGinger/YellowPaprikas/ShreddedPumpkin...., and green salsa soup and vegetable rice croquettes and helpful condiments layed out, like an entire kitchen turned upside down--hinting the flavours of a certain purplish-bubbly pot au feu. It looked like it had lumps of coal in them: YUMMY
A frivolous, flamboyant feast it was.

I took back what looked like an unknown vegetable wrapped steadfast in EggishRicePaper(so....is it an egg? Or rice paper?--the uncharted mysteries of food, oh.., so many..). Curiously, I hadn't intended to bring that with me. I had no intentions of consuming it whatsoever--and yet, it lay flat stuck on my plate like a stubborn snailish-sponge, unnverving in every available sense.
How provocative a dish could be!

I got on my bus("my" bus..a bus I've never ridden, never seen; but somehow, knew. Just as one could easily imagine, how delightfully squirmish MashedBananas would feel like between their toes--make that Cold February Morning Just Got Out Of Bed toes!--- and yet, have likely not to ever been in such a state.)..and actually, my bus had left off, zooming past with my dish of EggishRicePaper wobbling on one of its many anonymous seats, just as I had left for the restroom.
How violent a bus could leave!

I fixed my heart and snapped into the restroom, only to find myself half-naked as I came out. My working hours at the bistro have printed this illusion no doubt, as just last night, I was fixing my apron to hide my jeans..and I quickly back-hugged a favourite friend;

"I've lost my undies!" although I still had my underwear on.
"You have your undies on," she snapped, "Look here. See?"
:) She is one of my favourite friends, you see..

I told her about the latest rave of MysteryNovels: she smiled excitedly, promising me she'd read it first chance she got.

"She was beautiful," he implied, "BeautifulVibrantBeauuutiful."
Then he paused, for a few collective moments. "His daughter--Chrissy--she was another beauty. The clashingly beautiful type, you can never seem to get away from."

*      *      *      * 

Each individual was immersed in their own, seperate, capricious, highly-careless thoughts.

The bird was swimming in a murkish pool of FATIGUE,
and somehow I was inclined to save her, for the sake of....myself.
Or else the bird would die, that was for sure.

Her legs waded wanefully with every move I made, setting her lower body in the cupped water and gently trickling it. Eyes shut, she made several attempts to raise her beak.
As if she wanted to tell the world a whole new DESIRE.

However, I soon realise that she wanted nothing more but a few farewells. Rested in peace, she waned.

Ophelia.

There was an attractive Underground-Party taking place, and I was supposedly invited--or, had been anticipated, so to speak.

"It's been so long, so very long!...Ah, how are you these days anyway?" they say.
"Yes," I stutter. "Yes, well quite....quite well, quite well indeed. And you?"

There were no such perceptions as limits around here.
As always!

*     *     *     *
My brother was curled up like a nuzzly cat-a-tat in the platinum safe. He wore fluffly whitish pajamas, that no doubt belonged to somebody else.

"Why," I said, "Why the miserable face?"
"Because you FOUND me!" he suggestfully exclaimed.  :)

*     *     *     *

And someone (godknowswho) had a few tricks up their sleeves.....