A bebop roadshow, slapping and jumping
Loose and direct, structured like a wire
Going zip and zap, spreading its electrical seed,
Feeling around the corner, hiding with the lights on
Do we know what it is?
I can't acknowledge my skin is prickling,
My hair is rippling,
My blazing accusation.
It feels me around a dark corner, when I am waiting in the dark
For the bright LED to change
To blue again.
When I watch their films, I remember the book
I remember my imagination, the concepts that I had grown and planted
I had drawn.
The way the proverbial cat leaps towards salvation
Leaps into the river
Towards death and away from it too.
It compels me
Like a twisted, raving psychopath
Hiding bodies filled with suitcases
In his body-filled suitcases.
I watch and I remember
Pepto-bismol commercials, thick-necked men in white t-shirts, and long pipes full of some tobacco.
It reminds me that my world is
Not yet transient
Like the proverbial train like the proverbial cat
Like the proverbial proverb, which stings like a cut wire,
Which scares me andfrightens me away, away
I, too, cannot live forever
But my own world with its hierarchy
With its "own artistic merit"
With its Westerns
And its make-believe and dressing up and expressionism
It can defy and outlive, define and relive
And it gives me satisfaction.