February 5, 2008

• Bird and Lil's Instant Messenger Poem II

  Bird's remained a constant in my life, tho he and I each have other partners.  Although we speak (he now eschews IM and email for the human voice, at last) frequently, I've not seen him for almost a year as he lives far away and h as little reason to find his way to my neighborhood.  

  I didn't sleep last night, after the contretemps with the housemates, was drowsy, in need of a shower, when Bird called, asking if he could drop by.  Would I say no?  No, so scrambled for a fast shower while one of the housemates threw a couple of things under the bed and couch and tidied up, frantically. 

  And so, Bird and Lil, friends forever, truly loving each other, spent two hours this afternoon - looking at Lil's creations and tuning the vintage Yamaha snare.   He also, as he is often want to do, laid out the roommate paradigm, when he said, "you know, it sounds like 'Mommy, she won't let me have my cheerios,' and 'Mommy, he won't share the cheerios"   Sums it up.

  He tuned the snare a little higher, having first landed on a wonderfully resonant sort of baritone sound, to five mem more bounce, more action on rebounds.  I've not one minute to spend today playing, but tomorrow one may have to drag me away....

  My spirit goes to a different time in Bird and Lil's relationship, back to when he relied on IM, serving as a sort of screen, a veil, and the wild creativity that would sometime surface when we wrote poems together, line by line on the IM, pushing each other, teasing, luring, demanding, asking, stroking - line by line exchanges. 

  Childhood Dances in Forbidden Rain  is one of those, the only one I've recorded.   Here's the recording, itself a tribute to shared creativity, to how Bird understood to throw me words that opened me up and let me fly.   As he, not I, once said, "writing these is like having sex..."
   

  Love from

  pearlbamboo

  copyright ep hodges 2006, 2008

  • 11:01 pm
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