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Vertical Prose


children's @ 11:15 pm

SO yeah
i'm back in NYC
of the three nights i've been back
i've spent all three watching movies

the first
a badly edited TV version (with lots of commercials) of "Deep Blue Sea"

it keeps repeating in my head:

What Does an 8000 pound Maco dream of?



but
more importantly
i watched "Oliver Twist" last night
and "Corpse Bride" tonight.

the latter i found entertaining and fun
but it didn't really spike much in me

Oliver, however
brought up loads of nostalgia...

when i lived in England when i was 17
i had the best cockney accent in my acting troup
community theater
so
in a review
i played the Artful Dodger singing "Consider Yourself"
-- that's all i ever knew about the story...

seeing Polanski's version of it, however
brought up all sorts of turmoil

better than Aunti Mame
-- i never imagined some beautiful woman sweeping me away into a life of Fabulosity
but
i would go to catholic church as a boy
staring at the men
gray beards and mustache's
protruding british upper lips
my heart begging they would turn out their hand to me at the end of mass
and take me home with them
where they would teach me to be Civilized and Intelligent
how to use words properly
books to read...

not drink beer and shout at sports games on the TV all night
not yet at me out of ignorant frustration... when present
mostly being absent..
like my own father...

the story of a lost boy
with so many options
dark and light
and the struggles to find his place in them.

------
i've not read the book
so can't really compare
and N has read it... and seen a few different film versions of it...
he noted how Mute polanski's Oliver was...
subjected to so much of what happened to him
hardly affecting action himself...

sometimes... we do
sometimes we are..




i came away from the viewing feeling i had some universal understanding of something at the tips of my fingers
but
in the long train ride home
and distracted conversations
i lost it...



had dreams of some communal living situation
where all of my compatriots were devoured by a red-dust devil alien
that turned them into Jello incubation machines
evil and cartoonish
searching for nests for their progeny

and Sheridan and i were the only ones left
trying desperately to convince the to stop
trying to contain them
trying to rid the earth of them
and
eventually understanding there was no hope

fleeing

through the construction zones outside of the house
the potential sub-divisions in every direction
chased by the fluid red fiends...
i yelled to her
the only way to avoid them
was to fly
and lifted off the ground...

my magic
of course
being spontaneous...

she had to sit down
do a meditation and ritual
which frustrated me
to the point of having to understand she needed to do things her way


and i needed to escape.
 

Vertical Prose