Think. Play. Drink. Blank.
I'm engaged in a brazen game where a king card colludes with a few brisk sips of wine and whiskey. After a quick surge, I find myself purging my innards while my awareness begins to blur.
Retire. Stand. Sigh. Plan.
I brush my teeth a few times, mindlessly try a wash and follow it up with a stick of gum. Kind of numb. I can't really feel my mouth, but I can still smile and taste a few flavors, and I'm reminded of that time I was given a low dose of novocaine when the dentist scraped the inside of my cheek. I repeatedly stare at my face in the mirror and gaze away until I find my feet leading me out the bathroom and back to her room across the hall.
Walk. Stay. Wait. Lay.
___
In my favorite painting are three clocks seen melting; one sliding off a table, another draped on the branch of a tree, and the last hanging on what appears to be a face. Are they deceased, or just swept up in a moment that's been slowed to an infinitesimal pace? Dali's Persistence of Memory.
___
Purple and indigo patterns sway from one side of my line of sight to the other as I begin to climb onto a lofted throne, shadows thrown onto a wall and bordered by an amber-golden glow. An adorned heiress with a crown surrounding her third eye glides around the corner in order to reclaim what she's owed, to slowly climb the other side of this private island and to engage this peon with a bit of hopeful negotiation...
No comments:
Post a Comment