The year I grew older than my mother and thought about Theo Parrish mixing Loleatta

Holloway’s song Catch Me (on the Rebound)
Anacrusis

Ugly edits, Theo brings disco’s ravished heart, his white labels smudged with handwriting,

Loleatta’s name on his tongue. Another rhythm spectre, drum ghost. A sound to guide every murky

divinity ever loved to this dance floor, their feet kicking ashes in the air. 
Rebound                                                                  London

Loleatta promising                                 we’re delusions hoping to happen

nights crushed between fingertips                                 ourselves dismantled

burning eyes, scratched voice, I’m listening                                  a slipping grip, in front room dusk                 
Rebound                                                                  London

bodies swirling smoke                                 we forget what the ocean implies

haloed in strobe, flashing                                 and in fell darkness

permanence, I remember everything                                 we are every separating vocal, looping
Rebound                                                                  London

wooden tongue, silk gums                                 snares in our coffin chest

shoes as they blister feet                                 bass line tendons on the floor

hi-hat beneath each footfall                                 entreaties mottled in the air             
Rebound                                                                   London

for ten minutes we bend in time                                 trying to cradle our dead

on this dance floor                                 my mother is still alive

glass eyes stare                                 the edges hold us                                                                  
Rebound                                                                  Sydney

we’re packed tight                                 staring at the the back of her hand

on this dance floor, it’s possible                                 an abraded patch

the outer edge will cradle us                                 her left forefinger teasing flakey skin                         
Rebound                                                                  Sydney

this is before, but not long                                 strange pallor against her tan

she sings a slipping grip, dark-light                                 how it meant something

hours until another edit                                 we failed to understand                   
Rebound                                                                  Sydney

elk’s glass eye stares from the wall                                 until it was too late, the first thing

enamelled, hunched, drug-rubbed                                 she said to me, when she knew, was

white label                                 this is not hereditary                                          
Rebound                                                                   Sydney

ugly edit, fader                                 she shouldn’t have had to ask

and my mother is still alive                                 sprung board beneath our feet

nothing dies here                                 another Rebound
Rebound                                                                  London

icy after the century turn                                 nothing disappears

dawn below the horizon                                 ugly edit, fader

a mini-cab from safety                                 vinyl press, white label, another Rebound
Rebound                                                                  Brussels

Loleatta is singing again, like                                 in the time since she died we have become

a knowing echo                                 people talking with ghosts

nights that listen                                 one-sided conversations walking                                    
Rebound                                                                  Brussels

burning eyes, scratched voice                                 even now she is attached to a cord

the end and beginning seem the same                                 sitting in the leather chair

who knows where our fingers land                                 beneath the wall phone, afternoon tv playing  
Rebound                                                                  Brussels

all our sleeping bodies                                 I don’t know how I will

need other choices                                 stand in a hospital room and hear

Catch me, catch me                                 apostates counting each Rebound
Rebound                                                                  Sydney

looping messages through space                                 the groove

the mix never ending                                 the groove

coiled around the vocal                                 and how it is possible
Rebound                                                                  Sydney

and in these seconds                                 each question has an answer

there is only the diva’s love, nothing greater —                                 do you hear the echo

in all the places we could name                                 in which it lives                               
Rebound                                                                  Sydney

with the riding bass                                 let yourself discover

the mix, origin                                 snare, a never-ending shiver

another Rebound                                 a final Rebound                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               
Coda

There’s no food in my fridge. It’s cigarettes at dawn. Do you remember that time in London when I

was fading, with a whole night trapped and stomping in my skull? In the cafe, patchy sun, tea and

water. Rebound, hauntings, empty zip-locks. And the waiter looked at us and no joke said, that’s a

way to live. Mostly all I could hear was the dance floor echoing, she was a whisper. Of course you

don’t remember. No one remembers, not even me. These things only live in the dark now, you

know, all the Rebounds. This aura, after the remains of who we were. We stand, hand out, as we

wait for taxis to appear, pull to the kerb, take us.