Saturday, July 27, 2013

Old timer drunk at the carnival

https://soundcloud.com/#szymon-bonaventura/old-timer-drunk-at-the

Duck duck goose


“Look, look, look!” 
he says
poking her with one hand
and pointing to a young man,
by the lakeside,
with his other.
“he's having an epiphany!”
“OUCH! Stop poking me!...
How can you tell?”
“I had one just like it, I can tell by his face”
“when?”
“when I was young”
“you are young”
“I was much younger before”
“were you by a lakeside?”
“no, I was in bed”
“was I there?”
“no”
“did you know me then?”
“no”
“what was the epiphany about?”
“that's like asking what deja vu is about”
“I know what my deja vu is about”
“what?”
“I remember being near a lake,
you were a hound
and I was duck,
you snapped at me
but I knew you were just playing”
“yes, you had nice feathers then...
Rghouf rghouf!” He barks at her squinting face,
they laugh.

 
The young man by the lakeside hears their banter
and turns his attention from the branches overhead
to the pretty couple rolling in the grass barking and quacking.
He was beginning to get used to these synchronicities.

Earlier that morning he awoke to the sound of children playing
duck duck goose, in the courtyard.
He got out of bed playfully annoyed,
and barked like a viscous dog, out the window,
down into the courtyard.
A couple of the little girls screamed,
he laughed to himself over eggs and coffee.





real green











I get home and it feels like

nothing but boxed air

the clock reminds me
once a second
what time is supposed to be


I get home and it feels like

everything except out there


books press against each other
reminding me of the
relationship of informations


I get home and it feels as though

it's insignificant where i live


my mattress bluntly reminds me
of the stubbornness of gravity


I get home and it feels like

I've never been here before


the coriander on my window sill
reminds me of what the
real green is supposed to mean


I get home and it feels like

I've been here all my life


I take off my boots and the rich smell of my feet
reminds me of where I've been