Jassy Melson
02-15-2011, 07:07 PM
I still hadn't found what I was looking for, so I turned around to see the dawn, but I saw the sunset instead. So I turned around once more to face the music and the band, and standing before me was my dream lover, looking just like Bobby Darin. So we refreshed ourselves, sucking the dew from each other's breath. And Bobby said I feel as if death is walking behind me. And I said don't worry, it's only your shadow casting you out, forsaking you, it happens to the best of us. Be of good cheer, our revels are coming to an end (as Will said they would). There is nothing we can do to escape our fate. Bobby nodded and disappeared, splish splashing under the water in his bathtub, and I sighed, realizing this was the story of my life: to be alone, to sing a solitary song. I had made a deal with the devil years ago. In exchange for my ragged soul he gave me the power to sing poetry and to become infamous in my own time. A fair bargain I reckon.
I passed James Dean in his crashed and crushed Spider. Although it made growling sounds, the Little Bastard was dead to the world--and so was Jimmy. Oh well, he would have ended making Budweiser commercials anyway.
Around the corner I spotted Steve McQueen looking so cool in his turtleneck. Lithe as a panther, leaning in a doorway, poised in his praying mantis pose, cobra eyes dancing with devilish delight. I said hi as I passed him by and he grinned with his eyebrows and looked beyond my shoulder watching my back. Bullitt is on my side I sang aloud, laughing a white laugh. McQueen said you got it, pal, and smiled a white smile.
Into the mist I wandered, into a world of lost shadows. I saw the black coffin with my name engraved, and knew I had come to the right place. The great white caterpillar with its red tie and pomaded hair guards the gravestone. It resembles Oscar Wilde, and with a Moby Dick grin invites me to spend the night while the wife's away. I politely decline, informng it that I've turned asexual. It nods a sagacious nod and says nobody's perfect. I lie down in the silken interior and I thank the gods for a painless death. I open my mouth to receive communion with the lotus flower, as two coins are placed upon my eyes. The caterpillar closes the lid and silent darkness at last envelops me.
I die and am reborn in the same instant. I know my lives are numbered and there won't be many more; the devil must have his due. Something tells me he will feel cheated when I throw him my soul. In the meantime I mean to live each day as if it were my last. Oh say can you see by the moon's twilight what the caterpillar dragged in: a clown's white skull mask and harlequin tights. A fitting costume for this my present life.
And what does it all mean? I hear a faint voice ask in the distance. And I answer it means nothing. Good morning and good night.
I passed James Dean in his crashed and crushed Spider. Although it made growling sounds, the Little Bastard was dead to the world--and so was Jimmy. Oh well, he would have ended making Budweiser commercials anyway.
Around the corner I spotted Steve McQueen looking so cool in his turtleneck. Lithe as a panther, leaning in a doorway, poised in his praying mantis pose, cobra eyes dancing with devilish delight. I said hi as I passed him by and he grinned with his eyebrows and looked beyond my shoulder watching my back. Bullitt is on my side I sang aloud, laughing a white laugh. McQueen said you got it, pal, and smiled a white smile.
Into the mist I wandered, into a world of lost shadows. I saw the black coffin with my name engraved, and knew I had come to the right place. The great white caterpillar with its red tie and pomaded hair guards the gravestone. It resembles Oscar Wilde, and with a Moby Dick grin invites me to spend the night while the wife's away. I politely decline, informng it that I've turned asexual. It nods a sagacious nod and says nobody's perfect. I lie down in the silken interior and I thank the gods for a painless death. I open my mouth to receive communion with the lotus flower, as two coins are placed upon my eyes. The caterpillar closes the lid and silent darkness at last envelops me.
I die and am reborn in the same instant. I know my lives are numbered and there won't be many more; the devil must have his due. Something tells me he will feel cheated when I throw him my soul. In the meantime I mean to live each day as if it were my last. Oh say can you see by the moon's twilight what the caterpillar dragged in: a clown's white skull mask and harlequin tights. A fitting costume for this my present life.
And what does it all mean? I hear a faint voice ask in the distance. And I answer it means nothing. Good morning and good night.