Attempts at stringing together words as art.
The last time I was at the Market Theatre
I watched PJ Powers play Janis Joplin
in a childish haze of awe and fear.
This was certainly no Chopin
And what I knew of drugs, sex, and rock and roll
whispered in an elephant’s ear.
Now
I breathe air thick with Tiger Balm
And I miss you
as if you were here
as if you were real.
after all the time we spent sprawled on my bedroom floor, a box of tissues wedged between us like a tireless mediator,
after all the time we spent guessing whether the two hours since his last SMS meant he was angry, or losing interest or, just an idiot,
after all the time we spent dividing his vices from his virtues, and deciding he was really no good at all,
after all the time we spent celebrating his smile after just deciding that his rightful place was a fiery pit in hell,
after all the time we spent wondering if this really was what you wanted,
after all the time we spent wishing he was, just a little more perfect,
after all the time I watched you slip away from me and further into his arms.
after all this time
I walked you down the aisle,
I walked my best friend down the aisle today,
I gave my best friend away today.
And I’m happy for her, stroes God, I am,
I just wish her being happy didn’t leave me so quite
alone
.
My friend Ayesha, medical doctor and lyrically leaning blogger, tagged me in this note on Facebook:
revolution’s gone viral
dear young unemployed Arab
may I tweet your revolution from my Apple Mac?
may I go viral with revolutionary tweets?
I you-tube you praying on the streets
and yfrog your flag-covered corpse while
riding high on revolutionary retweeting fervor
In response, I’ve written this:
Some years on
wrinkled from living too long in the shine of a mythical sun
bodies old and minds undone
regaling the children who may have already gone
With pining faces and longing hearts of that one, one
tumultuous tumble in the bed of Janvier’s revolution
Smiling fondly through teeth proved false
Recalling pithy parts in someone else’s cause
We deny well the walls
In the wings of the blue bird’s horse.
On the first night of worldcupmas
My true love brought to me
You Uruguayans, trumpets ablaming, Evra’s an ostrich, not just, aujourd’hui.