”Like the stars, stars, stars in the universe…” 122112211221112221121212121212121212
I remember when you came.
A different war was brewing.
We didn’t know who was coming, what stranger was on their way.
You were cooking, something brewing,
A mystery on the way.
And then out you came.
A smile a wave on the Brooklyn Bridge, greeting everyone.
Always a star, streaming across the sky.
Spring through the park, flying through the air.
Going for a knish at Yonah Schimmel, some ravioli at Cafe Reggio, a chat a the Chelsea Hotel with Dad.
You looked out for me, a buddy for a stroll after Keith died the next year
After Dad took the big elevator up a decade later you cried with me.
Shared Monopoly money.
We’d make our way, both of us at Cal State Long Beach, in school together.
Both of us going to anti war demos and Pete Segar shows together, hoping Abiyoyo got a respite, despite his “long fingernails” and “slobbery teeth.”
Doing your best blue steel, haunting jaws, intimidating leading actress looks.
The camera loves you, darling.
LA to New York, to Spain to Japan and back.
Each day, another adventure at Shibuya Crossing.
Each day more stories from school, roller skating through time, from Bay Ridge to NOLA and back.
Tolerating your old man hanging around.
Going to shows, to see Tim at the immigrant rights demo, at his house, as he got sicker.
A tear here, a giggle there.
You’d be making me the zines, telling me about the best bands and art shows in LA.
Meeting me at the Cafe Kotti in Berlin, watching Cabaret, jumping in the ocean, strolling through Dada shows, Dada Enchilada still has a lot to teach us,
Hannah Höch lives to LA and back again. The history of the absurd needs you.
Dad, I’m really an absurdist. So am I.
But sometimes I forget.
Stumbling into Rodney on the way to dinner.
And Billy and Savitri at Earth Church.
Recalling Dad at the Chelsea.
Careening out to the desert for a rave, watching the sun come up in Joshua Tree.
Singing “whose got the crack?” with the Moldy Peaches, falling in love with Mother Earth's Plantasia, jumping on a train from NOLA to eternity.
Dancing all night at the Loophole, meeting friends at Shockoladen on Ackerstraße 169.
One zine, or stroll to Berlinische Gally and Trash and Vaudville at a time.
Telling stories about the psychedelic circus of Shuji Terayama and the living end.
On the road to the Slabs, where we learned how it really worked,
To Allen G’s marker in the Lower East Side, for a snack at Famous Ray’s in Tompkins Square Park, one joyous adventure at a time.
From Dada to Dodi, anti Dodi to Gallodi,
Everybody loves jello, even Mellow yellow.
Sitting at Village Works, reading Cathy Acker stories.
blood and guts in high school now and forever,
“IF THERE IS A GOD, GOD IS DISJUNCTION AND MADNESS.”
Reading the Basketball Diaries, reds and blues, goos and Lous.
Joey is still my favorite,
The KKK took my baby away.
Listening to Suicide,
“Ghost Rider motorcycle hero
Hey baby, baby, baby he's a-blazin' away
Like the stars, stars, stars in the universe…”
Watching Brother from Another Planet and My Own Private Idaho,
“Some people take your heart, others take your shoes, and still others take you home.”
And some people make it all worthwhile.
Like you,
Like a star.
No comments:
Post a Comment