dreamwrite 6
why are you here
there is a long stringing cloud of you in little shapes and colors all coming down before me
interrogating in symbolshapes that i can’t hear and can only imagine
when you are very eloquent and i am listening carefully
but i see the long-necked bird again its head slipping into an unplace
wedged between two certainties that overlap in maybe
the fairgrounds of a beingness that seems uncertain and ill-defined
a top hat for a show and a rabbit of many tricks
mad as a march hare, you know
teacupfolly, down and crashing shivershatter breaking
what does that little man see
in his redvest broad body
his little size no more across than my hand and no taller than my knee, but imperious beard and sharp styled hair
he is certain of what he is about, his expensive tie to match his vest
in tiny tailored pants, he is immaculate
and turns to me without distain or contempt
but whatever one has for those who are so far beneath their place that they are of no consequence
but without malice or judgement, simply acknowledgment of the distinction between us
and he stands at the long red drapes and pulls them open, looking out across the view
i cannot see of what but i imagine plush decadent gardens, or hidden little hillside homes
villas in the mountains
and the little man swirls his drink, i think it’s scotch, abut he does not seem intent on drinking
only swirling and looking once in a while back at me, before returning admiration to the view
and knowing better (having been coached) i do not say a word until he speaks and breaks the silence, a measure or weighing of something he is rumored to do
and he walks in short strides, powerful and nimble, to a desk in which, despite his size, he looks imposing.
“what is it you want?” he asks virtually unable to pay attention to his question even so long as to
but it did not matter
for though the little man was impressive and has registered on my mind
i can’t stay focused on any exploit or deed or memory today
but face the bride across the water with the utmost consternation, afraid
the ocean doesn’t bring them back. no news is better than misguided hope, abandoned they have died or will soon, and
i didn’t know her long enough to get to clearly judge what it is i want to see from her
why is there a sudden image of going up some neonlight stairs that are really just a misshaped ladder, and into a loft with people, i remember it fairly well, sitting around in a green room drinking or doing drugs, looking for someone, walking through the place i remember a door, the side of one, and a dj room that had the windows overlooking but blacked out
and if you closed thee door the dj room was somehow the place to be
but the seat was uncomfortable and i felt lonely and alone up just mixing, well watching someone mixing
though they took turns once in a while and would put on new records, i didn’t like the whole collection, but there was a beat to it, a good bass beat
and i don’t know what it was next but there were people, lots of people, some wearing glitter and little stars
and there was some worry or anxiety of the cops showing up to quiet down the party, but i think i left before they did.
one of these times i will see myself walk out of one of these tunnels of dream memory and i’ll catch me and we’ll have him
(shit, i think someone or something just passed me in the air, there was a slight motion, then silence and nothing)
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