Sunday, July 3, 2011

Jesup, part the twentieth

well into the evening atlanta evening maybe midnightish early summer late spring this sky these clouds these wispy shadows that hang between the stars like marionettish buzzards waiting to feast on our rotting carrion dreams their puppeteers our gods sighing deeply a resigned june heaviness

whispering hoarsely

a sultry weight refusing to move ignoring the slight barely noticeable breeze that flutters the fresh newly born green oak leaves

under which gathered ron johnson and his friends his cohorts his partners in crime sitting about in begged borrowed stolen chairs from the dorm from dobbs hall sitting about in chairs in the little courtyard beneath the ancient oak dripping with spanish moss all stereotypically southern in its setting before and above the slabs of weather worn italian marble itself peppered with speckles and freckles of moss and shoots of crabgrass

slapping at the gnats and mosquitos and moths that flitted in out about the two lamplights at the edge and in either corner of the courtyard rubbing at eyes ears and nostrils when one of the little fuckers manages to find its way through the defenses

fists to the air middle fingers pointed to the lamplight that is their sun the center of their universe screaming drat you red baron as they kamikaze into human orifices

it is the last night of school the last night of their first year their freshman year at that fine institution of higher learning that is emory university that sits up on its hill among all its ivy-clad libraries and coca cola finery


the moon large and bright over the far buildings a cocktease of summer hope and expectation crushed like the dewless lawn twixt their toes

amidst the quiet of the evening

an occasional hey the train that was fucking funny as hell

what the fuck were you thinking

hey pass that over here

hey whoa hey whoa hey wow

hey saw you sneaking out of suzanne’s room last night you better hope that fucking es aa ee of a boyfriend don’t find out

hey what you doing this summer well me and steve we’re going to europe going to bang around how about you dunno i think i got a job downtown wall street my dad’s firm

amidst the quiet of the evening

occasionally someone would go walking by from the sidewalk into the dorm or out of the dorm onto the sidewalk a giggle a chuckle once a sob from a sweet coed walking away from dobbs arms crossed beneath her breasts suspended in the gentle sling formed by her halter top her chin down bobbing between caught breaths long straight hair hanging low hiding her face

the glow of a joint passes around the circle of chairs an inadvertent ring surrounding an imaginary firepit a gravitational pull sufficient enough to keep them tight the centrifugal force of their spinning heads keeping them from falling away into the nighttime confusion

that chaos that upon the morrow will be their world