lifesong (anti-elegy for a friend)

By | 15 May 2023

She plays Chopin by the seashore
like someone in love // someone rubbed the wrong way—
days under drought & flood
evenings under ash & microbial mists
miasma invades & infects &
murders the will to play—
January inertia // full immersion
in absurd perversions // worst version
of the Self—cycled unconscious
re-conscious of-conscious if-conscious
reverberations in the cranial reservoir.

Men in iron masks came to take her away
to maim/reclaim/defame her melodies
but rage of the lyrical
cracks the liberal & the literal //
the mystical physical inimitable rebel
cooks florid with fluid flames
& wears a chrysanthemum
in her hair.

We’re doing alright these days thanks //
together searching for effervescent dynamism—
white wine realists & red wine Romantics //
truth hurts but it doesn’t harm //
breaking free from suffocating ecstasy
& homogenous hegemony
& analysis paralysis //
we harmonise with 12am streetlights
illuminating how strange the city is on sleepless nights.

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