12.10.2008

tintype no. 5


The Dreamers' Dream



Awoke to ink drunk
Picasso circus
Loop
With/ Gayboy acrobats
Torsos in aerial whips / Concussive on a flying trapeze bar
Knocking me off the platform.
T dance at the M & M
In Atlantic City
Waiting for club drugs
When Timmy
asked us to dance
With him if we wanted any
As we bumped our brains out
With flesh camouflage surrounding
The music .


Underground with water pipes
Standing in the subzero drain
Smoking.
We didn’t collapse because we were
Pushed together on the dance floor
But we both had concussively
survived
You said I saw this in a movie
And we laughed like idiots.


Saw Chet in the lav waiting for drugs and
He played us a mournful ballade.
We stood up O’Hara at the opera and fucked instead.
(those dreams mingle so he can sleep)


Found the record that we used to let play
As we headed to the beach and we could
Hear it from the house as we watched
The night swimmers coming back from
Their underwater fuck.


Took everything back
To the point of excavation
And saw you coming toward me
Over and over again
Even as I was loosing you / Cancer, Disappeared / Still Lives
The handwriting above the headlines


Had this dreamers dream
Cutout of the ocean off the
Port of New York and
All of the creatures of Atlantis
Pressed on the crystal bloc
For inspection
Like animation from Verne


You said not to look and not to be afraid
Then you said that’s how we should die
I woke before I knew what you meant.
Actually the next day we were


On the beach and you went into the water with me
With your cigarette and we danced in the surf
While everyone had lunch and cocktails
on our blankets.
They laughed at your arm
holding the cigarette
Above the wave as we were thrown ashore.


We swam over the augers of the deposed
We swam in our own amniotic sea


The solid structure of the universe
ends in a beam
shadeless and prismatic
a distance to the mind
somewhat of a fantasy
Particular to the man
on seaward time
(starlit rock cut in sinister design)
The cut male structure as
Seen standing up
May be a late movement in art
sometime just a stratagem
Some equatorial gilt pendulum
casting light to secular hearts
Burning off the color of the water
Vaporous reprimand
And this proffer is a sacred
Notion
Of crystal desire in the sand
Dashing in the ocean.



For Jack Nespoli
remembering all of the summers together

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