Dancing around the Muse

Early on 21 or so, we'd sleep off the previous nights wild rumpus. Rarely seeing morning.

Work starts in the afternoon, no need to rush. coffee at noon, while i watch daytime people breeze by. we float into work slow at first then we march ourselves into a frenzy of restaruant chaos. everyone hates everyone else until the dinner rush breaks. Down low most of us start drinking as we wait for our final tables to fuck off into the night so we to can follow suit. 11pm

we burst through the back door three drinks in, ready to take the city.

I wanted the madness of Kerouac, to howl with Ginsberg. I wanted nights scattered across pavement, glittering like broken glass fragments of joy and pain and catharsis of the wild ones trying to outrun the consequences of being alive, young and naieve. The girls came as easily as the drinks and we graciously took for granted every one. you never see the strings attached until you hang from them. You easily miss at that age not everyone is chasing the same dragons or running from their demons, as we skip carelessly from room to room leaving arsonist impressions and intimate larceny. The good girls never mention how you hurt them and the bad girls just lie and turn their back like its nothing... but there is no time for that now. Somewhere out there in the dark waits a raven haired black madonna, waiting to deliver her sexy prophecies. Under a bright black halo she'll lift you up and bless you with black wings of your own as she welcomes you home.

Those nights I truly believed there was something vibrant and alive waiting for me. If only i could throw off the shackles of fear or care, I could erase and rewrite the past. There was and is something inside dying to burn brighter than everyone i meet. A scream loud enough the shatter the buzzing fluorescent light existence we all seem to settle for. I want to rattle their bones and make it impossible to ever sleep again. Together we could destroy everything we see. Build a throne for lucifer and a lighthouse for all for all lost souls spinning furiously counter clockwise forever and ever.

I was mad to live but had no idea what that meant. i was desperate to create a monument to the things i would destroy because i didn't know how to let out the light. Every night i fell in love with the muse and every morning i woke to a broken heart, because i didn't know how to dance with her. Id hear her in the Melody when i was too drunk to follow. Her smell lingers in rooms as i arrive always too late. She is soft sweater music on the dry side of rain soaked windows and she is illusory, a phantom that keeps me chasing...