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she looks at the red lamp she purchased as she was leaving the nunnery from Oakland to lake meriot in Oakland - it was all Egyptian to her - even what was happening now. All you had to do was read "the Good Kings" by Kara Cooney and buy the clue.
Now was a whacked time.
it felt like paper and ashes and screaming grey
toss storms of air and decay
with no smell
just frantic motion
cajoling you to turn into
and it was something she got used to pushing away - or maybe it WAS the two white pills plus a blue one that she took each and every day since she'd screamed her second husband away.
sure,
a humiliating pill to swallow
if you allow him... and her
to tell you who you are by getting out of your life.
mike did the same.
was that a loss? I only think about it rarely.
but the same with chuck and he was a brutal lung wound.
so supposing that time heals all wounds and there you go.
"I swear you could see me if you could open your eyes."
"I see you now, and my eyes are closed."
she snaps her fingers in victory.
they are playing American music club on the piano
in the foyer of the room in Brooklyn , New York
by way of Wilmington nc.
and they all understood what she meant because she was almost
allways meta.
it was a joy when she lerarned that word - like being less alone.
the eagles sometimes wrote songs to woo the women they were enamored with yet these women sometimes grew older without the children to prop them up or a wo/man upon whom to triangulate. The song had a lyric she liked but it was a hard one to find and far within the song... "...where the pretty people played hungry for power to light their neon way - give them things to do...they called it paradise. the place to be..."
Now, I've switched to American music club for her to listen to as she decides what to think in her head. What shall she think of now? spin the worry wheel and notice the beauty to collect in your slideshow for the nirvana.
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