turning

The world is turning, apparently, in the way that it can only turn when it's moving from darkness and back into light, but everything is much slower than a movie or a novel even but not one of those French novels where they describe everything, and it's boring because it's the 19th century and there's not enough dance breaks.  (But I know, I knowwww....they danced in France in the 19th century, and that's how I want to dance with you, with all our stylish masks, this could work)...

This is hard right now because I have just been given a new face, one from the bottom of the sea.  But I am stuck in the world of wounded men again, and one of the casualties is my motorcycle.  So I am having long conversations on the phone, where I am saying things like, "Look, I don't care how it gets fixed, just fix it, mister," and, "Look, we can play this two ways, see..." and the men on the other end of the phone are putting up fights, and we are all fighting, fighting over my sweet cherry ride.

If I was like this for just an hour every day it would be all right, I could do it, but I'm not like that, not for long, because these are the kinds of masks that freeze on a person's skull, and I need that because it is doing important things suddenly.  Like turn into something that I thought I couldn't be, that I thought I couldn't have, and suddenly all the big questions are all right, and time is moving in a direction that I like, but I don't know how to manage all the details.

But because I have no other choice, I am stuck buying gas for a very big van and thinking about my motorcycle more than I like to, and wondering about how anything ever really happens for some people, how the deck is certainly stacked.  But I need to remember, this is a revolutionary time, and nothing here is what it seems, and every stone turned or not holds things we can't understand, so, so, so, I focus on the seasalt that sticks to the bottom of my lip, and listen to the blood in my veins, and these old songs that keep coming up to the surface are beautiful songs, and all the lovely mermaids are singing and crashing with the waves, and the small desires that keep us up are the only things worth listening to these days, because they might unlock some of the things that are trying to boil, boiling like a rage in the middle of a storm at sea, and that is where you will unlock me.


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