Posts tagged ‘Dali’

May 16, 2015

an evening apartment

where gin drinks made wet rings upon wooden floors,
as open windows became sirens ringing in my ears.

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November 9, 2014

Sunday, November 09, 2014.

It is no Sunday, November 09, 2014.
Or any day…

It is a surreal institute
Of darkness in oppressing clouds
Looking down, waiting, coming-
Wrapping round;

Tangible—insistent, proud-
Turning breath to steam, to puffs, muting sound,
To daggers in the chest-
These real proper effects!

It is not any day,
Or any Sunday, November 09, 2014.
But the weather,
But the pressure.

Felt in measures.

August 19, 2012

Victoria’s Secret

I told her I take no offense; I enjoy being sexually harassed.

 

Ephemeral, fleeting; we just met now she is leaving.

 

An eye passes and we catch whatever it is that is special.

We are opposite each other, in respects, but we know opposites attract.

We come for the checks and to get out of debt.

 

Later:  At the bar laughing, gasping, grasping broad smiles, and social empathy over those in view.

 

Tasting the beer.

 

A piano bar at night, lit up nice.

Glad we came.

Glad we challenged one another.

 

Eclipse:  Moving towards, and covering someone for a moment, and then it is over.  It may or may not happen again in this lifetime.  Lamenting lifeline.  The light shines.  You might find…

 

No wine was spilt.

The encounters you have with the people at work.

We catered to the needs of others, after that we sat, we drank, we judged.

 

After That:  Intellect and free language brought us closer.

We touched hands; hers were colder.

I felt like a child.

 

Cold hands cold heart, and she was the boss of interest for the moment.

 

Earlier:  Ice water, and a mission, customers were kept intrigued as I by the sight and banter.

 

Later:  A sigh, and then more laughter; we spoke of the grotesque, the art, and the thought, politics and evil ideas, of past, present, and lost.

 

Something stuck out, yet hours flew by.

 

Momentarily:  A silvery purplish tint around the lids came through as she lowered her hair.

In the shade color spoke shame of physical violence that didn’t exist.

The things we imagine.

 

Sleep lost in the throws of a substance more important: conversation.

Rapunzel would have been jealous, black locks, dark beauty.

Stunned that she knew me.

 

She discussed how she loved the exotic and how white girls were not erotic.

I agreed as I disagreed, taking in the blond in the distance.

 

She must have been reaching 40 and was literally perfect; breasts, fit and large, hung against gravity like Spartans, frame, hardly there, I wonder about her diet.

 

That can’t be normal, she had to be from Georgia my friend said.

You can make your body anything we explained.

Her friends are all from Georgia, the ones that were talking about accents.

 

The wolves at the bar took notice diligently, not letting go until she left.

 

A few Gin and Tonics for the gluten-free, I ate less bread and felt better this week.

3 Premiums, I could have had more, but drunk people never score.

This round is on me, break to flee, never leaving that moment.

 

Attentive waitress thanked us a million for giving her six and that’s it.

Off to light up the night in a basement, in a condo.

 

Later:  Sitting bedside we spoke of authors, times, modern art to effect, reflecting now I wonder how we got so personal in such rapid fashion.

 

At That Moment:

 

I got up and left.

I hadn’t slept in 3 days.

I remembered my mind was playing tricks on me.

I felt somber and lost.

 

***

 

Transit:  Biking home at 3 am, biking through nothing, is it Monday?  Is it Saturday, is it Sunday?  I have not a clue.  Work does funny things to a person.

 

I pedal home and meet a blond on the stairs of my complex.  As I pass her she says hey and starts following, to a run.  She almost beats me up the stairs.  Confused I offer her over.  She came in and sat down.  She unloaded her life story on me 3 times.  I sat and sipped my wine.  I was confused, but her dress was falling off and I wasn’t sure what was going to happen so I listened intently.  This was such a contrast from the conversation earlier.  She spoke of parties, of poor management, of domestic abuse and verbal assaults.  I sat longer.  Finally, after an hour I said I was tired, so I walked her to the door.  She walked out and walked back towards me.  Her dress and appearance looking more sexual and disheveled; as if the deed had been done.  Sauntering towards me in her red flower-covered silk dress, paunch stuck out, arms set back, legs semi-exposed, she arched up near the door.  She pulled me to her at the frame, my hands touched about her bosoms and backside, we hugged, hesitating no longer we kissed.  She said she’d be back as she touched my nose with her index finger and drug it down to my lips.  Mason jar of wine in hand she strolled out the door and up the stairs.

Goddamn this night is weird.

 

***

 

Earlier:  Intelligent conversation, if only my friends could meet she.

The people we know from where we exist create bliss if you let things be.

Art has a hold on her, and as she says I should move to New York the Piano Man strikes up a cord to the same tune.

 

Don’t beg me, as I smile. 

 

2 am:  The time at the bar was over, night had passed for so many, but we had been stuck in a time warp, and almost forgot from the pot.

 

Like how right before something good happens you feel at your worst.

Like we are evolving-some people are born without wisdom teeth.

Like not knowing if Santa is real is the epiphany of curiosity.

We found the presents.

The tacit agreement between parent and child; forever remained captivating and devious.

 

And we kept talking…

 

Black holes.

Dark Matter.

Hadron Collider.

Dali.

 

We sat, I wondered if it matters if she moved

Our expiration date was years away.

 

The difference between Satan and Santa is the placement of 2 letters.

I tell her without words I will never forget her.