I think that there can be a field of white heirlooms
Green velvet tear-apart bodice
Chrysanthemum is the name I would give to this one
Myself and Ilene
Myself and Irene
Sandwiched in this chair going into the attic
She whispers to me about the movie Gaslight
She likens Ezekiel’s petal to the petals on her blouse
(She says that Existence is
Something simple)
I want to crush my face against her
And fall back down with her into the sofa
And fall for a long time
Instead we’re floating
The room has many faucets
So many beds
We climb into the windows and wave to the families outside
Hello hello
Don’t worry about us
Go back to sleep now ok
Then Irene/Ilene
She opens her dress a little for me to see her
I see her belly
She has the tattoo of a small animal
I think I have seen you before I say
You did
You did
I was singing to you, it was your birthday
Oh, if only you
If only you
Could you watch me
The way that I watched you just before I watched you
Hold that tiger…
Last night I dreamt that I was chasing a tiger. Or actually, the tiger was chasing me. Or it was about to, but I had a gun and I was going to kill it.
Ehh. Can you kill a tiger with a 20 gauge shotgun shooting birdshot? Probably not. This disturbed me greatly in my dream. Perhaps if I shot him in the gut, or perhaps say directly in the eyeball? But then I would have to wait for that fucking tiger to get pretty close to me. I was envious of the boy with the deer rifle. And the man with the sawed-off bazooka that looked liked it could put a serious dent in some tiger.
Then I dreamt that I was going to be in a movie directed by Sydney Pollack, and I had all sorts of advice for him to listen to. Criticism really. His movies used to be so much better! I enjoyed the shag carpet in his guest-room though.
Mmm, that is the sort of dreams that I have been having lately.
Tangerine, tangerine
Ehh. I miss my old boring orange and white Blogger dummy blog. This is the closest thing I could find on Wordpress.