rapid prose poem 37

Bouncey hair big perm blonde recorded for instagram view youtube live dance party in a French greenhouse and I think yes yes yes that is my sound right now. A few months later it’s still an obsession and shows up on my year in music spotify playlist. That hair was hypnotic. The dance the charisma a goddess of showbiz and I can’t even understand her. Actually yes I can, just not the words. When my chin broke my smart phone I got a new one in Malaysia with wireless noise cancelling earbuds. I listened to the wavy bumpy sunsety album in the Doha airport between two 14 hour flights to get home. I laid down on my backpack and watched the sandy haze fill the windows with bright white. It felt like an afterlife. Life goes numb and your role switches to an extra in the background. The lead is already in the air going somewhere that you can’t afford drinking and unconsciously discarding the glass without finishing every drop.

polo & pan