A long time ago in a galaxy not too far away. I was either Gandalf or the Demon. Instead of battling our way down to the lowest level. We sat around and wrote and taught the world how to exist without too many beautiful distractions. I'm obviously on some Mt. Doom maze wasting . I'm not pregnant (HM) with any art or ideas this week. Maybe next if I need some spare change for the food bank. So I can donate the world to the world. What would you like, a shovel. Break ground on a something Mies. So we can look over the tightrope and look at our reflection.
He's back, playing our Tiny Dancer.
What do I remember, someone found me somewhere hopefully guiding the merri-go-round. Ok I thought about it way too much. And easily lost her number. A month or two went by and she contacted me thinking I'd work miracles. I won't tell you what she looked like, too much attention and a focus. Blond existing hair, waving down. An easy capture for us both.
Now I'm distant from too many highs and lows. It was almost a decade. Where did we splice the films, shoot and direct, destroy the soundtrack and generally attempt? Who never wants to know how good we were to each other and how things could singe in an instant.
I went to work. Paid rent somewhere. We went out to eat everyday, sometimes twice. Traveled America from coast to coast, from almost Canada and flirted with Mexico. Does anyone know where we were, in some kind of documentary of streetlights. Did they need a new Kerouac, I didn't want to drink as much as him, I was more interested in 25 or something letters and a few symbols, Baudalaire. And I will leave the rest up to your imagination. Obviously her book would have been, I just wrote too.
Cigarettes and excess.
Let's not win a Happy Birthday tonight.
I do miss her. But it will be awhile before we notice each other again.
She was the movies and what was I? A good driver
Charlemagne.
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