Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Again -29/04/2009


I begin to blend,
In between the tweed fibers,
Trench coatings zone two tickets,
Black knee high boots and bleeding earphoned music,
Melbourne is mapping my-self out.

The shoulders of four million –near,
Rub off on me,
Trying to clear my throat not daring to cough up conversation,
(ahem), excuse me,
Moving one square space to the next,
These boxes a bus,
A carriage, a car, house, oven, television, toilet,
Somebody’s idea of the right angles.
And I’m cornered.

Crisp air neatly folds me into no-eye contact,
Four million mannerisms make no mention,
Stuck-up for conversation,
Conversions reverting,
Man I used to have something to say,
A few days,
Now my story says scribble but just don’t smile at me,
Singing no praise,
Trained stationary,
Waiting here to get home,
–but that’s what I’ve been trying to do,
Get back home,
But maybe a little brighter,
Light up like having something to show and tell,
My feet.

I have to tell you both something before I forget,
Tell you before I start editing out the bits where I can still sing out loud,
Before I forget the times where I would smile at strangers,
Before I don’t mention the parts about helping parents get prams off the bus,
Without having to mumble away looks of praise from other passengers,
Awkwardly saying ~ it shouldn’t be a big deal,
Before I take my hat off to you,
Before I feel like its all worth apologizing to,
Before I recognise my face again,
Before I look like the mirror,
–of everyone’s doing,
Before I have to wait for the smoke-oh,
That for so many reasons,
I do not need,
Before I walk through stores looking at row after row of shit,
I do not want,
And I cannot figure out why I ever did,
Before I stop accumulating lists of numbers in my phone,
Having no idea what to do with them,

Before impersonating a person with my old personae,
Becomes impersonal, and I’ll ingest indifference,
A diet of delicacies to dine as delicately as I dare,
Doubting my gold fish memories swim,
But please,
Are my five seconds,
Before inspection,
Your best recollection,
Just narrates a year in a shrug,
Same old same old,
Like to you it could have all been clouds,
The thunder under sunset shores of the Arabian sea,
Or full-fat milk swirling ballet-beautiful into black coffee cups,
Somehow, I’m assured laughing that this is the reality,
Account numbers and dates due,
It could have been the best blow-jobs in Kathmandu,
Instead I stand time tests,
And it really is… all the same, to you.
Tell you I want to see that tropical lightning still,
Same way I saw it back that day,
See it -on the horizon,
And take you back there,

I want this dream to wake up.
Wake up to ...what the fuck,
Fuck the mirror,
Fuck the men,
Fuck the black,
Fuck the stars right back up into the heavens,
And hurry,
Because I soon won’t know what to say back to them,
Been so long it’s been awkward leaving off apologies like,
Please drive through this window now,
So sorry your order took so long, but here’s the coke and fries,
I told the star-child these are not my skies,
But I already knew,
That not her, not no-one was listening now.

Before it happens to be,
That I can’t see the more extended-cut directed special edition version,
Of me,
Before Melbourne really happens again,
I have to write,
I have to dance my mercurial-all on their mechanisms,
I have to start conversations that lead away from our nowhere,
I have to carve my cravenness into combinations,
Of words.
I have to be more than the sum of parts,
My part to play, whole.

I have to whisper hugs to myself,
My own jokes will laugh themselves silly at your bad timing,
My smiles trying simply to say,

Never mind.

And not because,
It would take too long to explain,
Not because it’s an in-joke, and it’s on-you,
Never mind man,
Not because my sense of humour,
Will rarely be humoured,
Not because the more things stay the same,
I’ll change.

But never mind,
Because I’ll still hold my arms out wide around a sense of wonder,
Holding tight, I’m holding firm,
For dear life in fact,
That wonders, as I wonder-
Maybe I never left,
Maybe I’m never coming back,


Never mind,
Just like old times,
Only now you talk in thumbs,
Your nationality is air conditioned,
Never mind,
Never mind then,
You can mind your own business busily,
You can think each week-ends,
With better luck next time,
Reading you online,
Fervor dreams of another electric sheep,
And rather than living the night un-dead,
Going straight to work with no sleep,
It seems that if I’m not careful,
I could instead go straight to sleep, with no work,
I could go straight off working on anything worthy,

I could just, go straight,



Another freestyle effort, I always read these the next day and cringe. If I was smart I'd sit on this a day or two and edit, but I'm scared that maybe I'd be missing my own point then. So enjoy the flaws. :-)



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