Wild Side
Listen to Lou Reed, sure we did, slunk around to his smeared sultry beat, endless transformations into the fantastic where ratty christmas tree lights morph to magical rainbows of nightlight nightlife, dancing under spells of toxicants, sniffing, popping, smoking, shaking, dancing under spells of forbidden scenes out of mad inverted gardens of eden, pure and innocent in the mud of our own passion, pure and innocent of any intent, we played like children mad to be whoever came to our imagination and boom! That's who we were!
Me, I liked corsets and stilettoe heels, glamour of Marlene Deitrich 40s gloss of Marilyn Monroe 50s, mystery of woman who never was, the faker the better. And I swooned under kisses, melted in the strong embrace, fell in love a thousand times a day, they were so handsome, those men, those tall strangers, lusting for secrets, dancing under hegemony of misfit midwest immorality, a thousand Cinderellas, the mice into horses pumpkin into golden coach, too bright city buses and 24 hour hamburger diners in rundown eastside beat street, they called it the burn center, I never knew why.
Me, I liked the repartee, movie stars gathered under seedy mafia ceilings in dark waterfront basements laughing at our own madness knowing the false and the fake, the wigs and makeup covering little boys and girls with peterpan psychosis, the poet cut her forearms with exquisite stroke and did you hear, she tried to suicide, he gave her the pills, he had to go to court, she lied for him, oh how sylvia, and she didn't die after all, oh scream, shall we, howl wild high pitched peals of laughter for no reason at all.
Me, I liked the make-believe, whomever I wished whenever I wished, they'd play along with consummate skill of those who have nothing left to lose, and driving with girls to onion ring palaces on drunken new moon dark nights, music ringing in our ears, mad dramatic scenes of high effect, stealing lovers, returning them in different condition, being stolen, oh marvelous, give me that black fringed dress, it looks better on me! I stole all your jewelry, you painted a wonderful picture and sent it to him, he sent it back to you in a white standard sized envelope, inside there it was, cut into a thousand tiny pieces, oh that was art!
Reveries of the wild side, keeping our mad secrets as we spilled our true false stories like rare red wine onto parquet ballroom floors.
Me, I liked corsets and stilettoe heels, glamour of Marlene Deitrich 40s gloss of Marilyn Monroe 50s, mystery of woman who never was, the faker the better. And I swooned under kisses, melted in the strong embrace, fell in love a thousand times a day, they were so handsome, those men, those tall strangers, lusting for secrets, dancing under hegemony of misfit midwest immorality, a thousand Cinderellas, the mice into horses pumpkin into golden coach, too bright city buses and 24 hour hamburger diners in rundown eastside beat street, they called it the burn center, I never knew why.
Me, I liked the repartee, movie stars gathered under seedy mafia ceilings in dark waterfront basements laughing at our own madness knowing the false and the fake, the wigs and makeup covering little boys and girls with peterpan psychosis, the poet cut her forearms with exquisite stroke and did you hear, she tried to suicide, he gave her the pills, he had to go to court, she lied for him, oh how sylvia, and she didn't die after all, oh scream, shall we, howl wild high pitched peals of laughter for no reason at all.
Me, I liked the make-believe, whomever I wished whenever I wished, they'd play along with consummate skill of those who have nothing left to lose, and driving with girls to onion ring palaces on drunken new moon dark nights, music ringing in our ears, mad dramatic scenes of high effect, stealing lovers, returning them in different condition, being stolen, oh marvelous, give me that black fringed dress, it looks better on me! I stole all your jewelry, you painted a wonderful picture and sent it to him, he sent it back to you in a white standard sized envelope, inside there it was, cut into a thousand tiny pieces, oh that was art!
Reveries of the wild side, keeping our mad secrets as we spilled our true false stories like rare red wine onto parquet ballroom floors.
posted by Nightprowlkitty at 6:15 PM
3 Comments:
i really enjoyed this, romantic, evocative and powerful. every word felt so glamorous and exciting.
i feel very ordinary reading these words, it left me on tenter hooks, i wanted more and to be there. i could read this a million times over and never get bored. wonderful writing.
I was there, on the east coast, not mid. Never mid til now sometimes. But times are different and memories morph.
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