No, Then is not now…however…maybe.

Morning – and in mourning. The monsters are…and water is raining; a black coat flutters in a wind of lake despair. A man in front of a store, a woman in a muumuu with ratty hair, a child with a candy stained face, watch a moon disappear.

My momma was a seductress. I loved her smile – a faraway part of a child made a castle – to live in, to breathe in, too be in like a belief…one tower and then another shelled by an army; and a therapist who sided with the marvelous smile of her treachery.

Experts and dandies – teachers and pills and dreams and meanings crash tested development ideas on me like a dummy – but it could have been any child of steel that was melted near the freeway foundry of their myth making.

Now, oh you want to know about now? The black coat man retired to a slum in Los Angeles, the muumuu woman died a lonely death of cigarette inhalation and the child left the fort before its final crumbling – and now thinks answers only come while dancing.


3 responses to “No, Then is not now…however…maybe.

  1. This is a very beautiful piece of writing. Unique in its use of imagery and its shifts in time. A kind of surreal portrait of an almost family and a childhood. One of my favourites of yours, real, tender and beautiful.

  2. that hurt.

  3. gingatao – I do thank you sir…

    Dame – care to expand upon that…? 🙂

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