THE LOST TAPES Vol. 3

    I had a weird dream, and it went something like this.

   Reporting this strange case for television, I interviewed a couple of sisters, Siamese twins, that were connected by their feet. The right side of the right foot of one, to the left side of the left foot of the other. They were in their twenties and lived a somewhat normal life, at least to the limits of what one might call normal. In the interview they did fine talking about the stresses of their conjoined lives, but then, out of nowhere, one of the sisters asks the other in marriage. The latter doesn’t seem to know what to do, not only for not wanting to admit to incest in national television, but also for not wanting to marry her own sister. She didn’t say no, but also she did not say anything, wanting to run away from that awkward situation but being stuck to the very object of her fright.

   Open-mouthed and wide-eyed I woke up from my third of a lucid dream and went on with my day, but the idea of that dream is yet to leave my mind. How did I even come to have a dream like this? What does it mean? But more importantly, what would I even do in that situation? Would I accept a marriage proposal from the most important person in my life only because I have no other choice? Is it true that I don’t have another choice? Would it be best to accept a life-time matrimony, or force my life-time partner to a relationship that is not theirs? What if I’m not a polygamist? What if I consider my sister’s body my body too? What if my sister killed a person? Am I just forced to go to jail? Life can be so scary sometimes. Inside the normal, but pressed against its thresholds.

*** 

Equations upon equations
Meth upon math
Dead before twenty-seven

*** 

Juvenile tendencies
Nonexistent hormone explosions
Too shy to make a move

*** 

An old man shit talks the driver for the bus won’t stop
Senile old man, your house is still so far ahead

*** 

Wet, so wet
Wet white hot star
Hidden behind a shield of clouds

Dry, so dry
The vertical smile
With this shitty TED talk

*** 

Collecting poppies
The women cry
And sing silently to themselves

***

I had a dream, a stupid one
A dream of flowers and stars
Sour candy and cookie dough
Happily ever after.
What’s worse than a rapist? 

I had a dream, an inspiring one
A dream of sun and moon
Feathers and rain
A bright future.
What’s worse than god? 

I had a dream, a sad one
A dream of love and friendship
Death and departure
Ghosts of shadow and dust.
What’s worse than Destiny?

I had a dream, a happy one
A dream of booze and blade
Hangover and blood
Red-handed at dawn
What’s worse than me? 

***

(hot) Gay sex in television — is the future
(hot) Gay sex in cinema — is the future
(hot) Gay sex in comics — is the future
(hot) Gay sex in clubs — is the future
(hot) Gay sex in paintings — is the future
(hot) Gay sex in writings — is the future
(hot) Gay sex in front of me — is right now 

***

Broken mirror shards
Cut wrists, blood drips on tile
White tile, now red, others pink
Some brown, disgusting brown spots
Rotten, dead brown spots 

The blood drips on the toilet
The blood drips on the sink
Smell of piss and solitude
Smell of self-torture, of consoled despair
Smell of insulated sorrow and pheromones
I wipe my dirty hand on the shower wall
My bathroom is a horror movie scene 

Cuts stitched under warm water, no more dripping
Towel around my waist
Wet foot prints, chilling breeze
Window open, I fall

Where to go when abrupt woken up from the dream?

 

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