Morning

Wandering merchants angle about the bazaar wondering if their gold intake will take them far. The birds ruffle in their cages, the callers call out their wares, the buyers hold their hands behind their back as they lean in to inspect the peaches and the pears.  With time, the smells, the sounds, the cleaving of the meat. Get it all here my friends get it all. Get your merman and your wonderment, get your imagination back to. Get your childhood imaginary friend and grab an iron bar to bend. Send a love letter to a lover from the past and get a stamp too misty with the tears from your last lover’s last vamp. They stood staring at the glowing charcoal hearing the sound of emotion in commotion, a locomotion of mass people crying. They were sad because it was all not true, it was all not really there. They were sad because they lived inside the head of man sitting at a kitchen table on a Monday morning waiting for the coffee to brew. They were mad so they threw it all down. He’s about to start thinking of something else and we aren’t done. Costume change into the next one. A fantasy of death, a fantasy of love, a fantasy of a fantasy of a fantasy of a conversion he’ll have to have, a fantasy of desire of things to come. “Means we’re done isn’t it?” they all yelled. “Stick with me, son”.  They burned down the buildings, burned down the churches, pulled up the playgrounds and poisoned the gardens. They flipped the cars, punched their mothers in the face, posed on the graves and sprayed the air with mace. It was a scene man. The rebellion of the millennium, an assortment of upheaval of swath and destruction till nothing was left but empty space. “We did it” they sighed with relief and thus began the reconstruction. They rubbed the atom into molecules, into complex carbon zoetropes, rehashed the stars and clouds of dusty delight. “We are the gods” they chanted and danced and patted themselves on the backs. The planets were reborn, an amoeba swam in the muck, a fish hopped on to dry land, a monkey climbed out of the tree, a man sparked a fire. “We’re the ones” they all said. They had redone what they hated, they are what they rebelled against. New man same as the old man. There they all stood having a ball.

In the distance the wind whipping through the leaves above, the grass below. They all stood in line waiting for the fate delivered, waiting for the final line. The mine was closed but the shafts were empty, and they could hear the cries from within. Damn it all she thought, and they with plenty turned their head in silence. The romance of the days past memorialized in placards and old movies, the rough shade of light, the fade in once and tight, a line we can all remember. “Hello darling,” he said as he laid down in the grass next to her, she staring at the sky, even asking why and smiled as she turned towards him. She could remember the other night dancing in the light as he touched her side so slight. “Love you” he said, and they made love in need, and everything was alright. How nice.

The rain falls yesterday, sympathies within symphonies as they glide through the night in their imagination and inner delight. A dreamy time, a seedling rhyme to blossom into something great. Something beautiful, something we can all understand, something we can see in ourselves, in a mirror, in a doorway. Gathering info, gathering emotions, gathering it all for the great work to be done. One day my friend, it’ll come out a story of adventure and love and deep human understanding. The fallow notes will hit deaf ears and the blind will become art critics. The halls of intelligentsia run amok with papers flying through the air.  Professors like ants frantically run from room to room. “Have you seen it? Have you heard it? It’s the greatest thing ever.” Orgasmic blasting and brains exploding. The population can’t handle this. The bees fall to the ground in drunkenness, and the bear just hugged a deer. Eagles built a house for mice, and the opossum plays alive. The coffee turned to tea, and yellow is now red. “How can this be,” he said. “What is it that is done?” You took it to far my son and the earth is the moon, and the moon is Jupiter. The Sun has taken a vacation.