Collective Unconscious

It's only a touch away from the familiar, a bit out of the ordinary, slightly removed from what we haven't yet known.

And if it's only waiting...

We passed the End of the Earth sale on the way here.

Maybe things are just beginning.

And maybe...

In mid capture of conversation, we find the calls that draw on memory and melody.

And possibility.

They say it's general holocaust - that everyone is dying.

That it's anything you can imagine.

So bad the Italian music got involved and the movie store down on West Lane.

But even though it's a bullshit excuse, it's still why the balis are banned. And not just in Ohio.

He was in Chicago for eight years.

So that...that became home.

It's only dark intelligence hidden under wanna-be curly hair.

Or even wanna-be wavy.

Sullen eyes and a high voice, the way I imagined.

Do you need to remember?

A blossoming music career.

Disguised as something much more.

Exotic, but it's a carrot.

I had a diet coke, but I don't know where the the glass went!

Silent with a smile and pity in blue eyes.

My wife worked down in LA and I had a job at six flags...

Were you the bad guy or the good guy?

I was...the...rogue-ish.

The morally questionable.

Just recalls the thin boy with no smile and a beautiful voice, who knew that Broadway was a dream he'd been reaching for his whole life...a dream just out of reach.

Did you ever see Mickey Mouse being led out in handcuffs?

The feet were big enough that they caught the baby?

Lewis?

When do these parking lots ever end?

I dunno Clark.

America's one big parking lot.

Not simple Alice, though.

She doesn't know what sight train is.

Simple Al?

She wouldn't have much to say.

Lean forward over the table, brush nose, lean left to adjust pocket. Her right hand up to her ear. He smiles and looks up. She plays with her hair. He sits up, hands to lap, wipes mouth, leans forward. She withdraws, scratches right shoulder, holding cup, speaks and drinks. Head tilt, watches waiter - sees him go by, glances down. Subtle. Mirror body language - heads tilt.

She's in jeans, flip flops, grey tank and black bra, straps showing. Dark hair, faint purple overlay.

Him in yellow, but dull with green writing: Surf and Turf. Watch on left hand, a broken smile, far back hair and he drinks tea.

Her right foot keeps shaking and she tries tea - daintily.

He smiles and looks down, leans in.

She's not smiling anymore. She has a ring on her right hand, second finger - index. And gold earrings, a scar on her right arm, just above/across the elbow. She's fidgeting.

Waiters have black pants, white shirts, red - bright - ties and apron skirt like things. And no one notices because they're all the same.

All the same.

Ties in front with two pockets and black book stays in the left one. Unless it's the right and a pen next to it.

It's true.

Every time he takes a breath of air he exhales dollar bills.

I want to make a difference in a child's life.

A creepy old man's tshirt.

Your rent is collecting souls.

Bring them to us.

We will kill them.

It's always the bright ones.

No one ever laments, "Oh, and she was so stupid.

So little potential."

Simple truth.

And now you're gone.

It might have been easier if you'd died.

Aug 24 2010

So surreal

Being alive, and not

breathing air near the end

of the tunnel.

I can't breathe,

and I can't...

The hours pass

as a collection of moments

broken moments

that threaten memory

to fade and fail.

But these moments

these memories

are all that keep me

from being beside

the absence of fear

just in the light

just alive

just beyond and

just behind and

just beyond and -

This is the justice of

the air, hidden inside,

trapped in these words

that promise nothing

but missing who is gone

Just vanished

like smoke or my dreams

of echoing the human side

of things.

Of people, places.

It's all blood under the

scars; can't you hear the screams

I ripped mid flesh

while the background

muses hum,

mere humans complain

that they never had a chance

that they were trapped

before their time

and all the words they spew

come away as fire

and icicles

and laugh

as the days pass

because

hold

onto the world

the way you wanted

I can't let go

and don't want to

the way a man made magic

the way I heard

the creaking devil bones

and wanted something

more.

Just the stories, but with

the bones.

I heard it, and I felt few

And they only say

Jesus and good versus evil

like my mind falls through

into a stoner's haze

when the stones begin to fall

from a cut wrist

leaking pebbled blood

a monument, a testament;

just a letter that might be

mistake;

because I've planned to

and I promise I will

because promise...

Amuse your mind and

free your hearts.

And blood draws in the

background in evil voices

so I fall asleep,

passed out on the stars

that pretend I was human

all along

that I could love

human all along.

But this is inside

and I was just a star.