I am falling asleep and I am dreaming about Harmony,
clad in her HARD ROCK CAFÉ shirt and canary panties. Her eyes twin Siamese
almonds and she is looking at me, blinking without blinking. I am in London
only I can’t see a thing because my glasses are not nearby. I am passing Trafalgar
square and the statue of Admiral Nelson lifts his hat stating top of the
morning. I am looking for a BOOTs drug store so I can get not-my-biological-grandfather
Granpa Salm his set of razors he gave me twenty dollars to purchase so he can
curse in church and have the best damn shave he ever had. I am crossing the street Jim Baker edges his
head out the window of the bus and calls me dickelss. As I turn around I see
that the bus has become some sort of a stage curtain and that Jim’s head is
surrounded like the arms of Vishnu. I am in Winsor earlier in the day and I am holding the Teddy Bear that I will later present to Harmony as a gift from the Magi inside my chest.
Vivian is crying.
For a second it feels like we are on a ship and it is late at night and after a trinity of tortuous months and we have crashes into the ache of the earth. Vivian is holding her ubiquitous umbrella like telescope stating, yes, quite right, that is her.
For a second it feels like we are on a ship and it is late at night and after a trinity of tortuous months and we have crashes into the ache of the earth. Vivian is holding her ubiquitous umbrella like telescope stating, yes, quite right, that is her.
That is our Queen.
One second I am at Windsor and I am waving at the Queen and can see Vivian crying, in tears only she is crying from the center of her body menstruating pricked integers on Foucault pendulum. I take the Teddy bear I was to give Harmony and hike it to myself. I am look for Mark whom I inexplicably refer to as Mark-Andrew as a wide receiver. Sam is upfront blocking the Big Ten. Sans the rectitude of cogitation I punt the Bobby clad Teddy bear and begin to sprint out the north gate. I am following the faceless Queen looking out the film negative tint of the window of her vehicle.
I am sprinting after the Queen. I am sprinting through London like the Marathon winner from Basildon. I am high tailing it through cobbled-streets and foggy avenues. I am skiing through the labyrinth of time when I reach the Tower of London. Somehow in the mortar and impenetrable brick of the main tower I can feel Harmony and some I must rescue her only I begin to be attacked by Beef Eaters culled straight fro a bottle of Gin. They are wielding axes and swords. A bevy of British Guards which what in the Unite states is considered an afrocentric flattop begin to chase me. I am moving it in the tower of London and when I realize that I have nothing to fight with I find the white sheath of cock in my hand. flagellating the suitors like Odysseus searching for my Harmony who is purported to be in the prison tower but who in fact might just be a falsetto of one of Jim Baker's recently christened Open Jewels. I am battling with the stem of my virility.
I am fighting my way home only to open the tower door and find a duck feathers. Realize that I have found all of this for nothing and the person I so longed to complete every facet of my being was no where to be found.
One second I am at Windsor and I am waving at the Queen and can see Vivian crying, in tears only she is crying from the center of her body menstruating pricked integers on Foucault pendulum. I take the Teddy bear I was to give Harmony and hike it to myself. I am look for Mark whom I inexplicably refer to as Mark-Andrew as a wide receiver. Sam is upfront blocking the Big Ten. Sans the rectitude of cogitation I punt the Bobby clad Teddy bear and begin to sprint out the north gate. I am following the faceless Queen looking out the film negative tint of the window of her vehicle.
She continues
to wave to me inside her black Aspen Martin and I am sprinting after her. All I can see is her palm and I am chasing the black
car. There is something in the car I need to see. I am chasing the Queen. There
is a brick road that looks exactly like
the walk leading up to the medieval mouth of Windsor. I am running after the
queen. Behind me I can hear Vivian crying as she did early in the day. Again
Vivian is stating that is her.
I am sprinting after the Queen. I am sprinting through London like the Marathon winner from Basildon. I am high tailing it through cobbled-streets and foggy avenues. I am skiing through the labyrinth of time when I reach the Tower of London. Somehow in the mortar and impenetrable brick of the main tower I can feel Harmony and some I must rescue her only I begin to be attacked by Beef Eaters culled straight fro a bottle of Gin. They are wielding axes and swords. A bevy of British Guards which what in the Unite states is considered an afrocentric flattop begin to chase me. I am moving it in the tower of London and when I realize that I have nothing to fight with I find the white sheath of cock in my hand. flagellating the suitors like Odysseus searching for my Harmony who is purported to be in the prison tower but who in fact might just be a falsetto of one of Jim Baker's recently christened Open Jewels. I am battling with the stem of my virility.
I am fighting my way home only to open the tower door and find a duck feathers. Realize that I have found all of this for nothing and the person I so longed to complete every facet of my being was no where to be found.
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