WEST & UP
I woke abruptly after hearing a melody which I thought I created in the dream i was having, this melody was perfect… With this melody (I thought) I’ll sell millions of records… so I shook myself awake, and as I turned my head from my pillow I looked and saw at the wall opposite the windows, squares of light, a blinding, scintillating gleam against the door of my room, the stereo, the computer and musical equipment….these blocks of light, seemed to sway ever so slightly from side to side as I wiped a heavy layer of sleep from my eyes to look into them better. I was filled with immediate joy wrapped in a thin layer of anxiousness. The haze around the light seemed to be fading and the lights became more focused and perfect against the wall.This was really it, and I may be the first, or one of the many mysteries of happenings inside parts of America, Norway ,France, and Ghana… A great ship had swooped down, zoomed in all grim and determined to take me away from all the restlessness, the boredom and the great pains of blue terrestrial living. No need to phone anyone and tell them I’d be going. Sublunary minds would hardly understand my wish to leave nor believe me all together. I thought of my love and my family “my love is gone and my family will understand”. I thought of packing a bag “a few memories and my suede cape,yes….. no, I have to go now, the lights are so bright NOW…;..NOW they must be just inches from my window!” I turn finally and see the Giant ship, which I can just barely make out because I am completely blinded by its greatness and what I imagine to be much like a holy light. The light by which a soul posthumously travels onward. From the back of my head I hear my Father singing “onward to glory I GO!!!!!!!!!”… I see now that what I thought was several lights against the inside wall of my room is just one great light. It’s not like the movies; thousands of geometrically perfect lights swirling with precision in opposite directions. It is just one great light, not unlike a powerful flashlight shining directly in ones face………….. not unlike the sight of the sun………………………
……………. But the sounds where just as I’d expected…. the low hum of a never before heard supra-engine, displacing air around it to knock the tree branches together and spin paper and trash in the streets, I pitied the old peurto rican across the street who often leaves his window open for relief from the great ghetto heaters of bushwick winter, his books and papers thrown about his home as if a small tornado’d come through… NOW, a threatening whistle whipping under the crack in the poorly made sliding glass window in my room. I would be surley be blasted with this sound as soon as I opened the window to crawl out onto the slide or cling to the landing gear, the sounds of several sputtering engines trying to stay poised above the people,cars, and snow on Jefferson avenue. oh, Jefferson Ill miss you just a bit………………. The sounds were as they were, not unlike the sounds of winter car engines grinding awake, the sharp and unforgettable winter wind that bellows around city corners and city cracks, the hum of dominicans, puerto ricans and blacks speaking there own language down on the streets, shouting Bodega to Bodega. The low rumble of Ups trucks, the beeping horns, the bleeping car alarms, the restless buzz of a great world, unfortunately, with all its perfect parts set to GO or set afloat rather at too many different moments and in this lack of synchronicity I here my phone ring, my computer buzz, my neighbors shouting, police howling, the wind chimes which i love so much peal at the furthest window in the house, from my room.