The harvest moon is as bright as the sun on this blue night in a distant October between the wings of destiny and death. The daffodils and the hyacinth fight on a Reykjavik street and there’s a sunset far away above the steel water and then I disappear suddenly into a misty forest of greenish white, the trunks of the trees odd shaped and otherworldly. Mysticism plays out on a narrow street, once again in Reykjavik, a blue sky dipped in golden ink, buildings with windows lurch up like panoramic erections and the moonlight breathes down on me, an ivory eye like a blowhole in a dark sky, space all nonsense now, vast rooms of magenta and white pillars, windows a distance away, yellowish-white revealing life, memories of working at the Windsong restaurant and breaded veal patties with yellow gravy and rice pilaf on break, and am I now 40 years later walking toward the light, bruised neon exploited in a night mist, my heart and soul eager for outer space, stars and planets and the wonderous, colorful gases, yet I am locked in fear over the end of my life, where will I go and what will I be? Standing on railroad tracks and looking at the Great Pyramid while the sky overhead boils and the clouds look like a hurricane from above, but perhaps I’ve lived forever, different times, different planes of reality or dreams, and perhaps I have died a thousand times, glittering funerals or simply buried in a cave, the world always bends and breaks, ignorant asses destroying our way of life, where do I turn to keep my mind from drowning in this sea of absolute stupidity, how do I remain conscious in the velvet doldrums, this massive maladjustment of society? I wish I could walk along the surface of the moon or Planet X, where I could look down and watch the Earth explode, the ignorance, greed, selfishness, hate, racism, war, inequality, and everything once beautiful now tainted catching up to Planet Unbelievable… Boom. But then there is the harvest moon dangling in the sky tonight, and my wife breathes, and the bed is comfortable, and there is an old love now, and we have that to defeat the shipwrecked angst we battle, the arcade hearts ticking on and on.
Your thoughts?