Melting pavement
disappeared
as we flew.
The laughter
was lost
to trade winds
that carried us
beyond the known.
Those were days
of tangy warmth,
fresh and swollen
and full of mirth.
Unlocked.
Melting pavement
disappeared
as we flew.
The laughter
was lost
to trade winds
that carried us
beyond the known.
Those were days
of tangy warmth,
fresh and swollen
and full of mirth.
They seemed so cool
with their ragged clothing
artfully draped on anemic shoulders,
disaffected expressions even in the face of joy.
They may have been thinking of how good
it was back in the day, basking in sun
and boiling like lobsters – in a sexy way
and how with enough Aquanet and eyeliner,
they ruled a little part of the world
30 years ago.
Or they may have been wondering
what Camus meant by ‘I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world…’
They may have just been as blank as they looked.
I envied their lack of irony,
looking like refugees from a Pat Benatar video
while stuffing themselves
into their daughters’ pants, heralding the fall
of grace in a world that valued artifice over art.
I loathed them because now
I had that song stuck in my head,
complete with choreography.
His dress reached just above the knee
and he wobbled in heels as though
the tide had gone out
The lush landscape
next to the highway
was a mocking tribute
to a youthful hope
He shifted his handbag
as his slip peeked out to brush
his oily, gnarled knees
Llamas and cows grazed
while passersby absently waved
as if in communion
with a lost nature
He wasn’t sure where he was going
but his lipstick was on point
and his wig blew gently in the breeze
It’s going to be ok,
the air seems to puff out
in a kind of morse code
and it’s nice, even if it’s a lie.
Between the Chagall and heaving breasts
were words about the moon,
replete with sparkly imagery and
notions of green hidden behind
summer shadows.
From just inside the door, I could see
both gauzey clouds over the hills
and shellacked parquet in the hall
and oh I wanted to dance…
It’s not a matter of choosing
but trying a little of everything
and blending with night when possible.
When you’re driving home,
passing all the roadkill
and cracked fuel pipes,
watch how the sunset pulls
at trees and clouds
like they don’t want to let each other go.