jeudi 1 mars 2012

morning dream

an old poet, withering
i visit 
knock at the door
of the man i once lunched with
his dashing lover
his endless mansion
household abuzz with 
sisters and servants
i am led to his side
it is late 
he has just awakened
he does not recognize my face
he is visibly shaken
his kind lover
tells me early is best

as in every dream before
i become lost in leaving
wander the hallways
enter myriad rooms
one of the poet's sisters
a dark jewess with glasses
sees me and sparks fly
she is drowning in love
corners me in the small room
tells me she will wait
ten days for my call
makes me promise
and dashes off gleeful
i continue my quest

that's not the door
but i try it
so embarrassing
the servants have gathered
to usher me through
a door of revolving glass
into a garden party
everyone in suits
i make my way
toward the gate
and someone says
it's a gated community
and as i approach
water gushes from the door
from the ground
a small tsunami
i am wet and embarrassed
and everyone is laughing
i laugh too and say
now i know what a
gated community is

i realize my feet have no shoes
cold wet socks hug them
i must have taken them off
when i saw him
sat on his bed
talked about nothing
no no, not there, i'm told
but perhaps, i think
when his sister kissed me
she took my shoes
for collateral

we are lunching
the three of us
the poet remembers me
and is delighted i came
his courageous lover
smiles with delight
as the poet tells us stories
about the good old times
we laugh and drink wine

i enter a large room
another one of his sisters winces
it is dance class time for girls
and they are busy busy busy
i wish i could join them
don't mind me
i'm looking for my shoes
i sweep past the dancers
enter a little closet
housing a row of old shoes
oh there they are!
but no they are not mine
i try them on and they fit
but they have a small heel
they will have to do
until i get my shoes back

when i leave this time
you are waiting by the car
dressed in a blow-up plastic
robot costume
roller blades dress your feet
you look so ridiculous
as you slide down the sidewalk
you say you found
a vintage toy store
and when you left
they just gave it to you
i realize it fits you
it's a perfect fit
glad you were not bored
waiting all those hours at the car
i show you my shoes
my parisian black slippers
gone forever

2 commentaires:

Anonyme a dit…

What an adventure! You must have been sorry to wake up. Drenched and embarrassed at the gated community. Well, they sounded a bit stuffy anyway. Shoes are symbolic. But you got around anyway even without them. I'm glad your friend wasn't bored waiting. Roller blades are the best shoes although that outfit sounds a little stiff. :>)

Laura Tattoo a dit…

nah, it was plastic, sort of like a blow-up doll. only his face showed through. :>>)))