She asked me to play Bolero as I write this. Yes, like Diego mentioned previously in a poem there is eroticism in the sound of the flutes and the drums in the background resembles the sound of the poems born in a mortar as I crush garlic into sea salt and rub it into Thanksgiving's dinner. The sea, and an island off Africa, there is where she came from hence her name Seychelles and unlike Diego’s Muse mine is the color of Mozambique when she is fired up. She has no wings like Laurel’s for she leaves those for the real angels gathered in Dulce’s house and she definitely is not a Devil like Derek’s muse. She has traveled from the tip of Africa up to the coast and once landed in the eyelids of a half Moor and half Jew woman who lived off the coast of Spain on one of the Canary Islands. She prefers to inspire bastards and thieves who later conquer greatness. Yes she asked me to play Bolero and she is behind me now marching, twirling a baton too close to my head trying to awaken the past.
More after I meet the rest of the Muses.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
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