The Benefits of being bee pollen.

My eyes were wide within the weirdnesses
shifting all around us as if suddenly all of my past had changed.

The party ended or it was time to leave?
I couldn’t remember
anything but the feeling stomping around my guts.
A feeling that shouted “Everyone is screwed!”

I began to get worried I didn’t
pay my human dues, I began to worry that I might change back
into something secret. Something no one could accept, something that
could be seen as a wrongness within this very present reality.

Hurrying to say my goodbyes before I fell into the color I knew was coming,
my feet left ahead of me
and I stumbled
before I could catch-up.

(What happens next is a retelling of my yesternight after I left the party and entered the parc.)

Stumbling in the dark under the heavy memories
of the worst kind of monotony. Winter arose
like a crazed survivor from between the cracks of the
blackest pavement.

It felt as if the weight of the world was upon me. It felt like the mystery
that sustained me for so long, was fading.
I fell under a sleeping oak tree.

Here, under an oak. I sat between pure luck and the dream,…

It was here that Nothing was happening.

Here, I could listen. Now, I can hear.
All three of of us begin to laugh at this,

as if we uncovered a secret.

The warmth of our asses burned a direct

path into the frozen soil so we decided to press our lips to the frost
crawling around the earth
like

naked worms dancing in a mud puddle.

Luck says to me “she’s talking to you, put your ears against
her belly and tell us, tell us what she says.” Luck was trembling.

I was not sure if luck was frozen or became hysterical by all the

beautiful things we experienced the day. So many beautiful things,
strange things.

“Do it, Listen, tell” tried the dream.I felt as if I was being split in two and my two
halves were pulling us into a unifying realization.

In between I lowered my head into the tree to listen.

I heard the words of my lawyer return as a hollow echo

“everybody is screwed” she said.

“Fuck!” I exclaim as I  understand that the words
remembered by the tree will awaken a monster of fear under
my belly. I have no choice but to exit my body and begin to walk
up out of this world.When a world gets weird, there is nothing to do but walk.
Walk out eternity,
walk over cinder and smog.
Walk until your soul falls off.
“Never stop moving”
I spit- out the stomach sickness one gets
from traveling between worlds.

“Do you recognize where you are?” asks dream walking towards me

I tried to speak but my words fell to the floor, empty of dimension.
Here I soon discovered,
life was speaking to me by/through/with
images of the dreams… i(had/have)
Here thinking about an idea like “tomorrow” made
me tired. It took away from the great joy I was living.

In this world everything is transparent, here we see through EVERYTHING.

Our senses are one.
Opening and closing,  able to witness the birth of each individual imagination.

“this is my world” i answer to dream.

I, the slight figure below watches the sky change as his other half, her,
calls out over discomfort to tell him that
“The dream is peaceful, reality is the nightmare.”

 I enters into the wonder to see what it is to be as strange as you
feel.

Now, the other world is calling out to me, sounding a pathetic whistle. It wants me
back. I look back, to see fear comparing what is and what was. I look and laugh!
I laugh as fear burns holes
between my organs. I laugh to see that there is nothing in the dark that is not
in the light.

I laugh because everything is and will always be alright. I laugh
at all the times you had to remind me.

(You would be laughing too you, if you knew that one glance from your eyes,
& my life will be yours.)

 

…dave~