Wednesday, October 07, 2015

Chamber Music for Flamingos

http://charlespoet.podomatic.com/entry/2015-10-07T20_33_55-07_00

Guitars must scream and the drums must drum.
He was tired of rock and roll and told me he wanted to write chamber music.
I don’t even know what that is exactly and I still thought it was very cool.

Sat up there in his room.
The room he nearly burned down one night because he was drunk and left a candle burning too close to the curtains.
Typing one poem after another high on Philip K. Dick short stories and Cocoa Frosted Flakes.

I am realizing more and more every day just how little I find myself being able to relate to most people.
I used to think it was me, but am starting to gather the intelligence that most people are just not all that intelligent and that I do not suffer fools gladly or without holding something against them.
I know my friend Juliet would say I’m judgmental, but I am starting to get that in her own stealth manner she’s just as careful when it comes to the stones she chooses to keep and the stones she chooses to throw away.

The music must both sneak up on me and rip off my head like his music repeatedly did and still does to this very day.
He taught me it wasn’t about the audience and that you must do your art like you have six months to live.
He said just that on one of the many cassettes he sent me. His personal cassettes followed me from town to town because he was good at doing mail and making packages that would blow up your mind and make you smile all at the same time.

The flamingos aren’t impressed, but they’ll soon get over that because when you’re a flamingo it’s understandable being wowed is not as easy as just strolling through the park after dark.
John Waters can suck my dick and while he’s getting busy I’ll turn down his next script and ask him why he doesn’t get Iggy to play another idiot.
We spend far too much time going through the motions of putting out one fire after the next when what we should be concentrating on is burning this shithouse down to the ground. If you don’t believe a person can spontaneously combust just watch as I go up in flames right before your Blue Danube eyes.

Charles Cicirella
9/22/15

No comments: