Propane Mordor 

 

 

writings on bridges 

Je t'ai cru

 

Au début, tu étais si différent. Tu étais gentil, et même adorable. Je ne l'imaginais pas comme ça — c'est écrit dans le dictionnaire ; c'est la raison pour laquelle je t'ai cru.

ça doit être un jeu.

expérience? 

pour le laboratoire de sciences

Dr Jekyll 

Dommage que tu ne puisses jamais trouver un autre «moi» 

tu vois, parce que

c'est mon âme avec laquelle tu t'es connecté

les mots à l'intérieur du dictionnaire. les codes. ils semblent s'être estompés dans l'encre invisible

comment pourrais-je croire ou penser que tu as compris

Comme le disait Jean Cocteau : « La pire tragédie pour un poète est d’être admiré tout en étant incompris. » 

 

ce monde dans lequel je t'ai laissé entrer

où êtes-vous allé? 

toi qui n'étais jamais là

Est-ce que tout cela n'était vraiment qu'un jeu ?

                                                                                                                

             

right now x

 

 

 

 

Sunrise

this is a capture from a recent live action but I wasn’t the one holding the camera so this is why it looks so fuzzy as I wasn’t sure where to look; poppy

Agamemnon’s daughter 

play pause press

you go back to your earliest forms of comfort 

   overwhelmed…..I think of a bee I saw on the ground. The other day it was. It was not flying. It was on the concrete going in circles. What could I do? What was the matter? I decided that it had to have had an accident which rendered it unable to fly. It stumbled in circles. Why does my heart break for a bee? That they are endangered is one reason; I suppose the grass was mowed and ….i bend over…. I find a leaf….i nudge it….it is avoiding me….but then it gets on the leaf I offer. I take it away from the concrete ….where bikes go, electric scooters and passengers ride on a guided tour biker ride….

I stood over it a long while wondering what more I could do. Was it blinded by something? Were its legs crushed? Was a wing destroyed? But…. I realized it was more terrified of me so I nestled it in the blades of grass ….i said my pagan incantation of protection  

I had to leave it I realized 

later I thought of it over and over

I found myself like a swan. I sat in the floor as in ballet. I did the butterfly and stood up in the transition  and….lost in the motion of bar work pointed toe up the length of the inside of my thigh and down….bend and flex all the way down inside ….like a little clam 

This morning I am surprised to wake up with Bran beside me …. 

    more when I can write later 

beach daze

had not realized that people from the city sneak away here. Manhattan and “mini euro/medi” has taken over. The secret spot among those whom really want to sneak away. They come up here on the weekends. Airbnb it, it’s so pretty with the mountains and now that I’ve seen inside the homes. The parties…. I’ve been to several now. And met a lot of new people….the yachts too— they bring them on their trailers and jetskies and drive across the country to this marina and it is like a private universe, like the Crowded House song. Book for the summer: some stay all summer or it’s the place to “pre” tan before they take off for Monaco Europe 

I guess this is a secret trend for New York City artists too to escape to, weekend escape to avoid the Hampton crowd….

So I got approached by an artist, it was on the beach; he just saw me and started asking me these funny questions then he said he was looking for a redhead for his “Poppy” line, he calls it. So sometimes I’m “poppy” sometimes “tequila sunrise” depending on if it’s the beginning or end of the sitting —or what he wants to drink. So, I’ve been working as his model. I am not allowed to say his name. And he pays me. Cash. So I don’t complain. He’s very nice and has a lot of —influential friends. He plays Brazilian music He has this beautiful place with a private beach ….it is actually peaceful to sit on the beach as he paints me. He does talk to me and is very flattering in that accent he has but my mind is faraway. I just watch the waves 

journeys

 

thoughts of Bran….before I fall asleep 

       we reminisce about Rouen over dinner and talk of going to Bathe next weekend; although not part of my exploration I do not mind him as my personal guide to anywhere although just staying home with him would be lovely ….

No— I said not .... tonight 

and I hear bagpipes in the street

 

 tea cakes 

Such a beautiful day and it keeps getting better 

 

 

He said, holding me captive,

 “I am your purpose, never forget that.”