your art does not speak to me, please put it away
i am not interested in what it could say if i sat
still. i am too busy running to people who do not
listen to me, speaking to people who are running
away, to think on the starry sky or transparency
and other such nonsense, i have numbers to count.
god give me a spaceship
like the dancer rode on into the sky
i want to waltz with the moon
i want to waltz like a fool
an idiosyncrasy of truth,
senseless feet on the shoulders
of ideas too big to fit
into just one go round the ballroom
Inspired by the semi-senseless, semi-relieving Hotel Cassiopeia by Charles Mee, recently put on by dear friends of mine (photo above!). This weird, lovely little play (poem?) that my friends did can be found in its entirety here.
I’m catching up! I have many poems to transcribe here since I’ve been behind. So, sorry in advance for peppering your feeds with bursts of writing from the past week