Week # 23 Story # 20

October 21st, 2015 by Ash

AshStory_02

 

This weeks story came from a poem I wrote this afternoon while sitting in our courtyard.  I’ve been reading a lot of Leonard Cohen and I was dipping into his book “The Energy of Slaves” (amazing book) and I took a few phrases and ideas as a sort of imagery to help me get started.

The illustration for this weeks story comes from my very talented brother Gerrard Southam 🙂

I’ve put the short story first, then the poem the story came from.

Chasing the muse

“This is a threat.” He says standing on the kitchen table, “Do you know what a threat is? You will do everything I imagined you’d do, that’s how great a poet I am!”

She walks away from him into the bedroom and kicks off her boots, then turns back and watches him from a doorway insanely trumpeting about “People animals.”
  He is down off the table, seated and writing in his stained leather bound notebook.

“Men and women go about trying to own other men and women, but not me, not us.” He says taking down his own rambling.

“I have ignored nothing about my life and us,” he says looking up from his notebook and into her face, “that is probably my problem, that and the fact that I can’t find the words anymore from my youth, the ones I used to describe the aesthetics I longed for.”

As he speaks she moves past him slowly and pours two glasses of wine and hands one to him, “I think it has something to do with those Parisian street cafes that you love,” She says,  “try thinking of those,” She takes a sip of wine.

“I fucking love you.” He says, “I could be the greatest Rock star ever.”

“Yes.” She says, “Just remember where home is.”

Chasing the muse poem

This is a threat

Do you know what a threat is?

You will do everything I imagined you’d do, that is how great a poet I am.

As our skylines merge and your boots

go under the bed and you watch me insanely trumpeting

about people animals through

the smoke men and women go about trying to own other men and women

I brought black ink to write it all down, but when I came bravely to the page,

I should’ve sung about it.

You have loved the scent of trees

all your life, I ignore nothing about my life and that is my problem.

We were married to the aesthetics very young

now through a few drinks and some incense

it still isn’t easy to see.

I think it has something to do

with a Parisian street side café and learning a language

to grow old in.

My threats are empty

I could be the greatest Rock Star ever.






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