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In our town, we have no cul-de-sacs
Our streets are open wide, but
I constantly, constantly, keep looking around ..
A volley of needles poking my back, physically forcing me to vanish into and within the blue (Namely, carrying me upward. Blue is better than Sky, I assume)
Giant blades rushing into the horizon, as if propelled by a cannon, hit
my ankles from behind and cut
I think about my friend.
His father is Japanese and mother Kenyan – or was it the other way around. I don't remember. His last name sounds funny –
and resides in Caracas ..
We often spoke of his music;
It was popular among Oprah fans, quotes-loving New-Age enthusiasts, sex tourists, and pseudoscience orators, among others
Having targeted a wider audience, he feels the blow but never protests.
He knew of such cases and dismissed them as historical repetitions;
Such as his desire for an Eye from within, with which
we'd see and feel everything a person had ever done and felt and thought .. Once we met them.
It would speed-up, if not cancel, the inevitable use of pick-up lines .. The process of explaining our names and accents, but
it would naturally eliminate a "primordial pleasure",
it would replace it with a new one, nonetheless ..
not entirely new, for the idea had been already explored and even given a name.
He lived in the shadow of giants.
In the classroom, secondary school, I used to hum Hafez' songs and Alf Leyla wa Leyla's opening,
In the auditorium in college, it was better.
Speaking of which,
I lived away from shadows; I struggled, listening
to numerous pedantic outbursts from/by pseudo-intellectuals.
I wouldn't describe them as such, though;
Pseudo-intellectuals have great intellectual capacities and free mileage, on air and land. They see the world.
What a f***** ****!
By the way,
Have you seen the Royal Wedding?