Moondance (For Buddy)
I used to dance the discos in Miami.
Now I ride my bike down the blocks of the Midwest.
I pass the good ole boy's house with the confederate flag.
I pass the good ole boy's house with the confederate flag.
I look the other way to the playground with children playing.
The sun is hitting my eyes and my photochromic lenses turn black.
I turn around the golf course but it is too hot for the bankers, insurance
The sun is hitting my eyes and my photochromic lenses turn black.
I turn around the golf course but it is too hot for the bankers, insurance
salesmen and brokers. Cars are filling up the local dive as I turn past to
the houses with recently mowed lawns and the buzz of air conditioners
while the scent of lilacs still lingers in the air, my headphones filled with
Spotify1970's stream starts to play Van Morison's Moondance. I start to bop
my head like those little dogs in the back of Low Riders cruising down
Sepulveda Boulevard and I am back in Hollywood High as I sit across
the cutest boy in class and Mrs. Baxter is talking about syntax and I
remember how rejection pierced through my heart and although
the pang is a long distant ache, I continue back to my little
house filled with recently watered sunflowers as my
dog wags it's tail when I open the door.
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Author's Note
For Gary Justis who lost his friend today.
Other stories by Dulce Maria Menendez
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Such a modern scene, amidst the move from city to town. Such a touching memory for icing.*
Memories can pop up at the damnedest times. The details accumulate seemingly willy nilly as a sense of something inevitable slowly builds.
A delightful read. Love those memories.
Music is absolutely a transporter in time. I enjoyed this immensely. *
* to the *
I love how this builds all the way to the present and the all-is-well "recently watered sunflowers." Lovely. *
Another interesting take on the prose poem. I see you've coaxed f'naut into setting your lines according to your desired length. Thus the lovely curve to your right sided lines. Well done you.
I was wondering when someone noticed the lines. Thanks.
Such wonderful imagery and memory. Remarkable poem.