Friday, December 18, 2009

Il pleut.

48 hours now. There is a shower exploding on the roof.
An overflowing bathtub on the pavement.
And a dry apartment.
I woke up late because my alarm has not acustomed itself to me yet. it rings and buzzes my dresser and decides i should be sleeping. nice guy actually.
i fell asleep with wet clean hair and forced myself to dream.

There was an undecided party and it turned out to be here.

Then my mother had decided to rearrange a new apartment. She now lived with plastic replacements of me and my father.
Zoom out

I ran with power through a sunbathing crowd
topless and I knew you were watching.
Something flawed, maybe it was me.

It was a cider restaurant and I asked to see the menu.
I was snapped at because I was in the living room.
I remembered the interconnecting rooms and considered my own safety.

Through another hallway I hurried and found blue-striped boys. Innocent and arrogant and could pass for both fifteen and fifty-five (or neither, perhaps.) The kind from my supposed hometown. They needed to go to war or feed wild gorillas.
Or neither.
I asked the lion's mane-waiter to see the three different bottles of cider.
The waiter smiled. Because here, everyone gladly chose according to appearance.

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