Digital Art

we dream we are young | Sunday Brunch Tuesday | gary lundy

they roam unobserved through an abandoned building.

gary lundy

smoke a dance step or maybe conjoined ideas to defend definition. talk ourself into relapsing them.

a flood of emotional baggage. worry less about appropriate behavior. two or more bodies in heat embrace. or instinct covers all but dining room falls into coma spliced into out of tune orchestral.

within a pattern set up to illustrate directionality. cross against the light between buick and toyota look alikes. a ladybug hat pin. itself a sign of good luck to follow.

the kind they travel everywhere to find. charged in reflective glass as if in introductory gestures. none of them pay attention unless someone is playing guitar.

might they miss us when the wind chimes sing. probably fester a sore warning beware. save for the aged face it could be them. lap up the words a drink of cool pure presence.

unobserved an abandoned building
Michael Dickel
Digital Landscape from Photos

there are when only particular music.

gary lundy

thrust ahead in tempo basic breaths. there are when they and us then upon opening expansive. when colors annoy the shit out of all of us. a spread of between two and a half to three and three quarters prevails. little not original some moment in time or other.

when they dependent upon our eyes brown blue to elevate conversational style or airs. when they move into jammed room. kitchen or dining left uncover spiders or mouse lost to food scraps. there are when cover crowding facial recognition shades. always the ground sky occasional trees in place.

we mistake invitation for permission. push them up or down stairs blank carpet burns. bask on table tops or counter our certainties. whose bones back east address unknown. probably not to salivate while exhale swallow. spells never came easy for them when they memorized the rules. there are they regard others as wheels broken in a time of glorious fruition.

smooth stones childish leaf games. when melody takes on the elemental magical. never more than suddenly hear a last chance repeats. those whose face may slightly annoy. resolve traffic air currents. a sudden new connect a consuming and throwing away. there are up into the bowl by feet bent ajar gasping gravity.

only particular music
Michael Dickel
Digital Landscape from Photos

we dream we are young. and they are too old for favors.

gary lundy

that their leaving a good thing. and in the dream one is again in twenties and in love. living among other similarly aged. all is music and dance. all is young skin against young skin. young lips against young lips. young cunts against young cunts or cocks. young cocks against young cocks or cunts.

time replays back a few weeks at a time. some speak and laugh through bubble wrap. or take photos of themselves to share among others. all the while their absence grows into a large pulsating spiral. they have left. whether willingly or not. they will never return. never share a cup of coffee. or meaning less conversation.

so in a being quiet we cross a street. or being quiet we sip coffee eat a chocolate scone. or hide our face in a book. pretend to understand every thought every word. nevertheless remain lost since their leaving. as nightfall grows redundant. light bulbs are replaced. spider webs snap in disuse.

in the dream we hear footsteps overhead. lift hope that they do in fact return. in the dream we are all in our twenties. hearts full anticipating not being any longer real or meaningful. after things grown complicated. as sleep drives us farther into alternatives.

we dream we are young
Digital Landscape from Photos
Michael Dickel

gary lundy‘s first book, When Voices Detach Themselves (Is a Rose Press), delves deep into personal space and comes out with cultural revelations. His most recent book, Heartbreak Elopes into a Kind of Forgiving (Is a Rose Press), dives even further, if possible, into the heart of matters, uncovering the space for forgiveness and a desire for continued connection—even from deep within introspection. We feel the power of pausing in order to understand how the outer world shapes us, especially through the ideas of relation/ship and loss.

Read more of gary lundy on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play
Three poems
words refuse to unfix themselves


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