It became regretful to recall how I would wake-up next to him, and see black, the color of my true loves hair. Another sleepless night, that inevitable feeling of the occult during solstice, long drawn-out tiresome nights. Ironic, how the body screams to release it self from ordinary confinement. Lustful little fuck, intelligent… no, amusing… yes. Through the unproductive of the alone hours the intellect sought guilty pleasures of amusement, and there was plenty of it, watching Dangerdoom on Adult Swim. Forget adorable little Stewie meeting his future self, “are you my father”, disheartened after discovering the expectation of his intellectual counterpart, “no, I am you.”
Moved away from the cold bed, bathed, dressed, “no use crying over spilt milk they say,” aching palms finally reached the door, a quiet-deep growing restlessness counted away every dying minute. Walked outside into the biting cold with thoughts of how the day would have been absolutely perfect without the chill from the blowing wind.
I felt the urgent need to be about ten-minute behind schedule, instead of the usual thirty-minute rush on petite legs. The transit approached, got on, got off, and amused about walking a block only to hear the ingenious lecture of the day for a few more bitter-sweet agonizing minutes. Quiet-amused laughter, on the contrary, one would have thought Nicole Kidman uncontrollable laughing fit in ‘Eyes Wide Shut’, now called “laughengitis” as that sort of inflamation of the laughing gland in this nonsensical rant, as some hilarious scene to behold, not so much as amusing the night prior to the early morning.
It had consisted of those shameless hours spent in dichotomy. Bemused laughter in the quiet recess of the night, where thoughts turned into inaction, unethical need to be liberated from solitary confinement, the hopeless romanticism of the female psyche.
Dangerdoom meatball, red-juicy-plump, satirized the male genital anatomy, D-I-C-K, absolutely fucking laughable to ridicule males with the name Dick, erecting national monuments in the glorification of images shaped like the male penis. I bursted out laughing at the mere thought, pushed the handicapped button and amazed the door “worked”, slid right open. I recollected in triumphant gaiety how the erected building, the state Legislature at the capital is shaped like a sack of balls or two shaped tea bags, governed by the generalized majority of bureaucratic males, most with the same self-perpetuating ego’s like, Dick. In retrospect, the national monument, a “democratic” republic shaped totalitarianism stripped of habeas corpus, turned into a fascist state, governed by the brains of the operation, Dick Chaney…well, the Bush did fuck things up. Aching hands opened the door, sat down, moved over, sat down, and underwent minutes of apprehensive hyper-sensitivity. Lustful little fuck.
Open Mic performance; location: Tallahassee, Florida c.2008