Immaculate Concept

This song plays in my head as I stand on the fence across from the mall. Quickly, urgently, I smoke a cigarette. A single drop of rain falls on the corner of my mouth. This brings me into the sense-memory of kissing you. There is visceral truth in these tightly-spun lyrics.

 

I, unhinged, sorry

Hold care for you

Begin to love`

The utmost

And who else

Spire bound

 

 

 

you ain’t got no soul power

Forget what they told you. Remember those suns-swept picnics where we spread ourselves beneath checkered umbrellas so that we could hide from the wind? Yeah, I do too. Remember when the peach pie that I won at a halloween cake-walk was sliced with the knife I stole from the nightclub and then scooped into the miming hands of simpering youths? Sure. Remember when we drove away and the last slice of pie fell from the roof of my car? Yep. Remember when I wrapped a very large salmon boa named King Lear around my neck and there were small adoring children all about my feet? Yeah. I remember that too. And?

The thing is

Don’t you know that August (life) really starts on the 5th of the month? Truly. The pushing and the disintegrating and the writhing and the joy. It is all inevitable. It’s like this. It’s like that.

“Much of my confidence came from my never having been in love” 

“The people sitting on the balcony are surprised, because they don’t expect anyone to look up at them”

This, though overblown, felt relevant. Sweat and open sky.