Exhaust

This might just be a break in the clouds We've been lurking in for generations I think ahead a hill is rising sharp and jagged White-lined paper airplanes piled high We've been throwing them for so long Hoping they will reach the stars Seeing neither trail nor tumble Now as one we pat our pockets Looking for matches Closing our eyes Pretending to snore Reaching out blindly in cringes quick clutching Secret hoards of liquor For our dirty engines Are we in a thoroughfare? Or are these flying limousines? When we make faces at the tinted windows Do the bourgeoisie take note? A film director or a talent scout Screaming 'THERE! Oh THERE! 'My thoughts and dreams personified!' Because we are unique We are luminescent, yea And the shiny rumbling thundercloud Slows to a roiling tempest stop The door swings out and maelstrom gusts Present us... Jesus Or is it Caesar? Either is green-crowned divinity I think it's the Beanstalk on his forehead And we are giants in our minds But I have never been big on rhymes And the geese are all lost in the sweep Are they honking Or are car horns calling hazily? But we stare at the man Who would hold us high His outstretched hand a certain chapel ceiling's envy Vibrance more at home in oils than in skin What white is it he grasps, a dove? Or are those folded wings of flattened trees? Will he help us make a bonfire Of our poor and misjudged mountain Will the heat of his sheer handsomeness Ignite our weakling arms Create a heavy carbon pillar To fill again our lagging memories With sweet and slowly smoking mockeries?Ok, I this is probably my favorite of all of mine... So I felt maybe it would help to make sense of what's really happening (kinda in context of the story, I won't go TOO deep into my thinking): The cloud/fog/car exhaust/smoke metaphor: think A Long Day's Journey Into Night- it's all about denying and forgetting things (failures, mistakes, regrets: the paper airplanes) that we don't want to acknowledge. Jesus/Caesar: Someone we can follow and use as a champion for our ultimate worth - with a person such as this we can deny any guilt with the sheer force of our blind righteousness. The limousine thing: I always make faces at limousines, and it fit. Now extrapolate... :) Written October 10th, 2001 © on Oct 17 2001 12:39 PM PST   0 • 9