but now (butnow) wrote,
but now

like the shiver of a passing train

today the stone walls were painted with gold. my Columbian tutor was thrilled about snow, their cold isn't my cold. I dislike my national identity (it's not my national identity, but sometimes it feels safe -- or no, sometimes I need to define myself and I don't know how, I would just like to melt into everything other and be at home), but there's a certain loveliness about being Nordic; it's all so extreme - missed glimpses of sun through snow-heavy clouds and light-bathed summer nights, sounds rising up through the open windows. there's Dorothy and her queer glittery slippers -- echoing, dorothy I know you've had amazing dreams, we can't go chasing down each golden street (it's called dorothy at forty, how great is that?)

oh but what then? there used to be marble youth standing on graves, with strangerfaces, frozen in perpetual motion a girl said today, we laughed, it was very eloquent & beautiful. I was on a bus, all the treebranches were heavy and magical with snow, the journey took forever, I fell asleep & woke & watched silent roads & didn't mind. there were two foxes: second just across a street, handsome & thick-furred, first right behind my window, I  paintblood was dripping down my chin and only saw the tail. there is going to be a play with lots of sex, darkened rooms & red accessories appearing as they all get stained with syphilis. we will spend over 14 hours on our balcony & burn our fingers on ancient floodlights. in Candide, the old woman says, "enfin de caresser le serpent qui nous dévore, jusqu'à ce qu'il nous ait mangé le cœur ?" (it sort of reminds me of, et ce ver dans la pomme qui glisse entre les dents nous embaume le cœur, le cerveau, et nous laisse son parfum au dedans) and an eternity away/ever-so-close, the stone lions of München, the bullet-hammered walls, glimmering lights, paper stars. if if if the flights, that is-- I was reading the journal of a girl who's stuck somewhere in England, black-out, brandy, candles & people mentioning wwii. that's quite lovely, too.

and Vienna Teng singing,
in another life
you and I
were Red Guards in training
side by side
we marched on Tiananmen
turned our own parents in for hoarding rice
and in the Great Leap Forward
we crawled on our bellies and died
and the blood-orange sky gave a cry
of the next time around

(there was a film and all I remember is the girl saying, "in this life I die, in the next, I'll live." and it all seemed so easy.)
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded