Listening
to Bowie.
Cannot
believe he’s dead.
Are
we really stardust?
Is
Ziggy now just another endnote?
We
begin on script and before we know it we’re off book and off our heads.
And it was cold and it
rained so I felt like an actor and what does that even mean and why does it
speak so directly to me?
I’ve
never been patient and I doubt I’ll ever be able to wait long enough to see how
anything turns out or the reason we fell to Earth in the first place.
He
was the Alpha and the Omega and he was the very best we had to offer when our
backs were up against the wall and the stone had been rolled away by some other
kind of thespian.
Listening
to Bowie.
Ever
since I heard he died I haven’t felt quite right. My stomach’s tied up into inescapable
knots and I don’t feel like turning the page and focusing on some nonsensical
bullshit.
He
made us feel something. He gave us a reason to believe in diamond dogs in the
rough and how scary monsters will sneak up on us when we least expect it.
He
braved the storms of his own ghostlike renaissance and never once backed down
from fighting for what is undeniably right and will eventually forsake each and
every one of us when the fat lady sings and The Thin White Duke has had his
last laugh.
Charles Cicirella
1/23/16
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