Drifting home: An Urban VivisectionSubmitted by E. S. Constantine on Wed, 11/23/2011 - 10:24pm
Cold. Smoke on my breath. Feel disconnected. Welcome home, who are you? Shuffle past childhood arena. Clothesline of remembered narrative, obstacles of youthful frolics pinning me down. 1-2-3! You're out!
Shake it off. Follow the pond's path, diplomatic courtesy and all that. Watch dancing echoes of battlements, refracted light trapped like patterns in marble. Cow shit and crops.
Trash bin nearby, familiar fixture on the old path. Wooden shell for friendlier integration. Burned bright I imagine, hollow frame of weed and root now.
Sniff out the river by the Old Castle Inn. Blocked off by alleyway and uncharted overgrowth, only foxes dare to tread.
The flow of water and seagulls squawk.
Sun setting over luxury opium dens, so the story goes.
Two women walk by, "... Just told him to put the game on for the boys..." I'm not interested, keep moving away.
Hit by sewer stench. Dead things, dead history.
River doesn't say much. doesn't seem to mind me being there. Tired was the impression that I got. Ancient consciousness dancing gracefully past deeply buried narratives and glimmering memories trapped in mud.
Is it worth chasing?
Stare at shifting sands. Shifting narratives buried almost too deep to plunder. Shifting, sifting, embers burning dull in a cracked furnace.
2/4 beat on a tin drum. Tobacco smog full of global frequencies. Five to jump in, ten in your best. Don't tell the wife.
Voice snaps me out, "Oi! Why you taking pictures?" Rule number one: Don't get ink in the blood. Think quick, "Google Earth, boss. Pixies in the matrix, You'll never have to leave your house!" Stroll on regardless.
Injection of hope on the docks. Skin graft of progress. Don't know if it'll take. Won't matter, good or bad murmuring narratives buried under another coat of piss and bleach.
Head back towards the pond. Pass haunted vessels, marine skeletons waiting for their day of resurrection.
Along the cycle path. Steam powered memory nearly runs me down. Consider hitching a ride, scrap it. Safer on foot.
Stroll back to base.