Red Shift

Here I am at 3:19 p.m. fiery unstoppable frame.
The air is cold to the bone, even though it's October.
I drink some rejunivating mineral water which rejuvinates and smile to have confidence and to fit In.
The streets look for my mom or me. I'm just like my mom except younger and much less wise,
it's a miracle I'm visible around her. Lean on me.
I struggle through it, them, as the whole world sipped on my drink now 16 years almost ago,
and the man working, dancing, is looking at my mom & telling
Who would have thought that I'd be here, nothing achieved, nothing destroyed, everything to lose.
Except myself in the process. Up in the sky, travelling from one coast to another, now more than ever before? Not that every man I've seen, ridculous in the disguise of a fur coat eyes penetrating me and my mom
at the same time. & becoming lost in our gazes. Not that gorgeous hairstylist, nineteen,
who was going to have to go, careening into dust and like so.
To live & to laugh more fiercely than I could ever imagine so to go.
Not that Russian who from very first meeting I would never & never will leave the side of until we become one and jump into the world together & so demanded
To conquer every last piece & who will never leave me, not for hair, nor location nor even for another cute Russian girl which is
Only our human lot & means everything to me.
No, not to my lovely mother. There's a song. "Read My Mind". but no.
I won't do that I am smarter. When will I die? I will never die. I will live To be 19.
& I will never go away & you will never escape from me who am always and only an illusion despite this solidity. Spirit who lives only to affect. I'm only human. & I am guilty.
& I didn't do it by mistake. I came into your life to make you love me, and you did but I didn't make you.
You did it on your own & now you changed your mind.
Well, that's just my fate, nevertheless I continue to be in your dreams.
The world's my magic carpet.

1 comment:

Thespina says: said...

I remember writing this and having so much fun with it because there were blank spaces welcoming me to fill them with pieces of my own life. I put things about my mother and boyfriend. I also incorporated dreams of my own for my future and failures of the past into the poem. I always try to write about myself every chance I get; I think it's just a subconscious habit. Hey, Narcissus was a Greek god. What do you expect?