elaine on the plain

now i lie in need of a lonely regression. i can't remember a time without her. her cheek bones high like the humming bird's cry. look! she'd say as she point out the bird. i say, i am glad i stayed home from school today. i liked the birds and the bees like she'd liked the v's and the AMCs. mitchum flaunting in knuckles, she'd chuckle at his good looks. "I've always like him" she'd say, "so take a good look." he doesn't go by the book, just an handsome old-fashioned crush. even if we're all just a lush.

driving around hollywood, the home with the note behind the mirror. a cobb salad rests in peace after a 30's kinda feast. turn me around; look where i've been. oh how the boulevard been abused. golden as she whose seen babies and guns. sometimes we just forget how to run. i love you, you're myself. a goddess to history or all lies and a mystery. i know you as the silver vixen who sparkles with stars as you kick aside another's chides. not the svelt young stunning woman that partied and tried; a glancing back era laden with winks of approachability.

but you were never so innocent were you? purest ideals back to the time when chastity and honor were abused with brash, as you say, class. breathing out your smoke with a doctors note and a nod.  was it all so much better then? when men were men and women were cats. she says, look where sinatra sang, now it's there where the hookers hang. oh, but it was so much better then.

maybe the pain cutting in on the dance, breaks your backwards glance. you tried to run away but it wasn't the right day. away from the home, from the farm, hollywood's alarm. but what did you think you were running to? from the little town where you were so stunning? gracing the stage in a bitty high school choir. a stage play, you take all the suiters' breaths away. were you thinking about stunning in an hollywood picture? he went off to war, but you couldn't wait to be small.

fifty years later you were never small. more like my star. you filled up my eyes with your beauty and poise. filled up my head with the lies and ideals. the more you gave up. the more empty you turned up. empty inside. like an empty barrel that only a sea could sweep away.

a hollywood star to a grandchild. the star who remembered every note. the little girl who needs. needs you on a molecular level. like onions to your enchilada. you just need more. skip over water and bring home the frogs. skipping generations to bring them home to our world. the world of our ingeniousness stupidity. addicted to this or to that. sticking our heads away from the light. croaking as they infest, pumpkin seeds growing in jest. but we drown in the pool. a pool of fresh lies, cries and diet fries. It's ok to remember the picture in pieces. it's ok to remember the picture through any lens that lends. don't call the gardener. let the weeds grow. they're my favorite part.

and later still i don't even know who your are. and later still, you don't know who you are. you're smaller and weaker, trapped in a bed. from super-hip to a broken hip; molecules? where are you? do you betray our connection? do you remember me like i remember you? i can't run to you anymore. i call you when i cry out for help. a soft spoken achille's heal can't even see you anymore. memories have been parceled to tomah, i think. the part of me that hurts is the part of me thats you. the golden era, innocent and ready. the pre-dawn hours before we are enlightened by the tragedy of hours.  the horrors of years. the inevitability of age.

i'm mid-day and your at dusk. we will meet in our dreams and our molecules will be the same again.