In Between a Neon Yellow Morning and a Red Road
Not one of the subtle reasoning of madness—madness to be concealed—
was ever forgotten by me: I could recite them all, I know the system.
-Arthur Rimbaud
In between a neon yellow morning and a Red Road,
I found David Wojnarowicz dead as Rimbaud.
Yet, I kept searching.
He became my madness -
my missing slipper.
He is out there I know,
a pebble stuck in my shoe does not shake loose.
White space between dusty rose,
eminent but thrown a kilter,
a constant funk,
a skipped note,
misunderstood lyrics from a rap song.
David Wojnarowicz is dead.
I keep searching as he sought Rimbaud.
He found him hitchhiking in a subway station
on his way to nowhere
with a boner
dressed in tight jeans
holding his missing slipper.
My madness is out there I know;
a missing note plays the silence of Marcel Duchamp.
My hair turns platinum.
There is a system to this madness.
Wojnarowicz is dead
Rimbaud is a gelatin in his hands.
Duchamp is quiet.
My missing slipper waits for me as I turn into Red road.
~~~~~~~
Just A Man
Only yesterday,
God was burning the bush of Eve's flesh,
Until he fell in love with Sugar Cane fields.
Her offering is extracted from India ink,
written on the intricate veins of leaves.
Sometimes a chimed Ave Maria dew falls,
Placed on a bed of down,
To her Angry God.
He accepts her gift;
Her thighs are sacrificial lambs.
He rests his weariness;
listens to her from one ear
and becomes just a man.
~~~~~~~for jim
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Didi Menendez is the producer for several digital magazines. She is a single parent living in Miami, Florida.
The Poo Poo Video
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