blind walk
|
two strangers
one going up
one going down
passed each other
one morning
sensing steps
following sound
touching stone
finding their way
alone
two strangers
one going up
one going down
passed each other
one morning
sensing steps
following sound
touching stone
finding their way
alone
i like him.
it's a hungry combustionable combination of lust, loneliness and real.
skin is currency. exchange value and user value.
you can trust maybe 10% in vietnam. they are good at sex. they steal your money.
here it's maybe 50%. we are poor at sex. we don't steal your money.
we steal your _____. down at the crossroads.
he comes to me at mid-day. it is sweltering and sleepy. i welcome him him with fingers on lips...shh.
we go upstairs. we dance naked. when you dance you are truly alive.
we explore geography and invisible borders and silent musical interludes.
i am the silence between notes. harmony, rhythm, and melody.
i am his melody and he is my harmony.
my speech voice is missing. i make rolling guttural sounds expressing metaphors, similes, intonations, frequencies, meaning, sense, time, space, ideas, dreams, relationships, secrets, traditional family values, fear, passion, heart, joy and sadness.
he is blind and i am deaf.
our music is not available for download.
“Sorry to bother you. Maybe you’re a little sad, angry or lonely? Maybe I can help you.”
“What! Are you completely crazy as well as blind? I have no wife, no children, no parents, no friends, no home and no job. I live here hoping people will take pity on me.”
“I see. I know the feeling. I’m on my own. Maybe we could work together, be a team.”
The beggar rubbed his stubble. “Hmm. Let me think about it.”
“Take your time. Knowing our destiny there’s no hurry.”
“Really? How can you be so sure?”
“Call it a hunch.”
The beggar laughed. School kids passed them. One dropped a coin into the bowl. “Thanks kid. Good luck on your exams next week.”
“I hate school. Too much homework. It’s so boring.”
“Your attitude sucks. You sound like one of those single pampered kids I see every day. Busy, busy, busy. Get used to it or you’ll be out here with us.”
“A fate worse than death,” said the kid walking away.
“Yeah, begging isn’t a job. It’s an adventure.”
seeing or watching or looking
blind people see
sharp diabolical edges of conversations
laying out splendid contorted plans
program expectancies
there is so much we do not
or will not or cannot know
where the inside is wrapped
in the outside
what people don't see is fascinating
like a land mine
below the surface of appearance
once upon a time in a place
with dark mysterious scared eyes
sharp knives
and no money
poor lost blind people
from a poor lost blind village
came to a poor lost blind town
carrying their curiosity
empty stomachs
empty pockets
and cheerful childlike stolidity
ignorance
inside teeming markets
spilling vegetables, clothing, steaming food
invisible naked predatory children circle, hover near smells
watching eaters eat
the quick and dead
blind people laugh
hearing gold workers hammer
ruby, diamond, sapphire, emerald jewels
scattering gem sound seeds