Sunday, April 23, 2017

403

5 AM. 

I dreamed last night that Third Man Records had invited me and some other poets to read after a Jack White Concert in an old Masonic theater. It's a big deal so all of my family is coming, including Great Grandma Betty who has made a special trip. 

Jack starts playing early so I scramble for a seat. I sit high up on the left side of the theater, nearly in the rafters, next to a blond bearded dad and his 3 kids. We chat and become quick friends. I see my grandmother being wheeled in on the other side of the room by my mom and uncle. I wonder what she thinks of Jack's guitar playing?

My new friend points out to me the sayings written on the walls of the theater. They are theories of life written by children. I read a few, nod, and tell him that I have been formulating my own theory. "There needs to be a new name for love," I tell him. "It's confusing because love is the name of two opposite things. You love what you are attracted to, which is really a kind of selfishness, but you are called to love the unattractive, that's real love."  My friend whispered back, "Or you can just be present with whomever you are with." "Yes," I said, "clarity. That's another way of looking at it." 

Just then a song ended and a Jester dressed for Carnevale made his way through the crowd. All eyes were on him. To our surprise he made it all the way back to our seats. Two tailors followed him and they took out tape measures and began to size up the feet of my blond bearded friend and me. Jack announced from stage that we had been chosen by raffle to be fitted for new handmade Italian socks. Wow, I thought, that's perfect, since I recently bought a turquoise blue Giudi Italian wallet on my ten year wedding anniversary trip in San Gimniano. And I still have the white Armani tie I bought for the wedding too. I guess I am well on my way to owning an entire Italian suit, I thought. Wach piece will have its own story.

That's when I woke up. 

My first thought upon waking was that I should send my dance journal to Third Man Records.

And of course the music for today's dance had to be to The White Stripes.

   The graffiti a block from my house, on Barnett. A hidden Queens' treasure.

   Barnett graffiti. 

   Kind of pretentious title for an album, but I like the ambition


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