2005/06/22

Tribalism?

This should've been up Sunday but we were all zonked out after the rave plus the drive. It's kind of heavy-handed, but then who cares. I've been asked why these things I write aren't titled; the answer is that they either need none or deserve none, and anyway they just clutter up the reading, most of the time. Even the post titles I use are really an afterthought... a denouement curled back to the beginning.

With which
ten thousand lost children
ten thousand seekers conjoining their lives
from 13 to thirtysomething, and
also ex-hippie biker stoner hick goth drunk townie counterculture thanks

On which
the sign says "waiting 1,000,000 years to meet you"
that Styxx wore away limestone birdnests
calls itself an Amphitheatre and soars
over us, with speaker stacks like moon-craters
the sun overhead burned the skulls of entranced shufflers
from sunset to sunrise to moonrise to Mass

In which
no glass containers - no violence - no sobriety -
no elevator for the long cliff trails - no cacophony so
booming an muffled & interference waves crossing at each camp
- no sleep - no shirking friendship

For which
we came armed and armored, these ten legions
shining at night with gauntlets and batons
maces swinging neon tracer fire exploding eardrums eyesockets drawn in
a case of water bottles - never a goodwill concession
whatever came quietly in a pant pocket
security made easy money

To which
decks, mixers, mikes, bullhorns, heads, scratches, keyboards
& the stages passed like the heavenly seals
at each a new combination of sex & motion
at each a new throng a grind, the liquid air
at each a stunned eye dilated mouth drool-grinning hugs

From which
greetings Dave, Rachel, Brian, Erik, Emile, DJ Lee, CM3, Robin...
whom we knew for just those minutes or hours
whom we shared with this motion
this fleeting glow between moonless trees and deaf heights
and all those unnamed eye-caught in the crowd, the press
between the hopping shoes and twisting wrists
a nod and thanks

At which
aural differentiations become so much jam
eyesight is a glow of tracking lasers circling our compatriots
rib cages vibrate with the thunderous rhythm of extacy
sex and exercise, fun & art are one
fools veil themselves with pills
the Musketeers make no competition
heartbeats become mindbeats, handbeats, footbeats
mind and body unify and dissolve
flight is possible

By which
sole and calf and ass and back and shoulder, neck, arm, abs, knees thanks
worked into submission and done over & over
that sleepy-eyed point
that warmth of everything sent out, respired
with all of you

That which
we answer our ancestors in truth, & in culture
ancient frozen spirits are fired and thawed
this much is saved from the separation of things
this much is spent, these become we

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