The weekend and all I can think of are striped bags through metal doors in green and silver, leather and shining belts that are sequined. I see that stop in the train where so many moments of my life have been spent in anticipation in the spring and summer, hot and thick, or solemn standings in the winter, shaking and white and sterille, I see it through hard helmets and through bent and faked angles plastered on walls. A staged fistclench from eyes that gleam over a snide and sickly pernicious smile, round by his wrinkled matron behind blankets of caucasion suitjackets in yellow and conservative black.
Goodbye to the Pyramids, they scream on squares.The name spoke of the fathers of their stonecarvings, browned and painted over sandstorms. Hatred planned on sheets and on roving arms and furrowed brows deep in hanging lightbulb glow, to and fro, to and fro. I remember in spaceships housed explosions in the sky, and the orange, plastic covored chair in which I sat, swinging on top of blue tile as I pitied the shame, pitied the shame, and the smoke clears.
Is it sick that there are thrashing chords happy in the vibrant colors of the deathwatch? How quickly we forget from the sidelines.
There is a woman who sits in her house by the supermarket, motionless like an old man in the reflection of a mirror. Her face is an accordian as she breathes, though her stomough neither rises nor falls over the belt of her shorts. Sitting in her chair on grass that bleeds vibrant green stenches into the thick air, she is a stoic sentinel, and her arms are brownyellow, and her eyes are black, the black of her hair and the black of the single feather of a raven in a small and inexplicable bank of desert in a forest.
Some of them walked on swolen feet to Los Angeles and to Nirvana on Tuesday, screaming to the Govorner to erect a monument to Buhdda and to watery contact lenses of the mothers of raped five year olds, and to their gaping mouthes. Others tried the outer route and found themselves in utter Northeast, swirling with predicted cyclones and jumping from buildingtops thinking of levvys and of the teething gums of the baby in their arms.
*lana*
spring anticipation
