Remember Back in the day When those parties In Venice That say would have 25 people or so Walking through?
Now they were Too big Over-packed with 50-200? With frat boy vibes?
Dana Rick and I Arrived at one And I thought a At the sliding glass door Oh God And quickly escaped to the kitchen Cutting through the living room Where there was the make shift bar Nothing much in the Fridge
Anyway I made my drinks And turned around To cross back And somehow Dana was there In front of me
She raised her hands And wiggled through the bodies
While I Said NO I will dance When I feel like it I choose
So I began to follow And every elbow knees hip and arm Reached out to touch me Knocking all the contents out of my little plastic cups
And though I got to the other side Contemplatively Looking back Empty
The three of us Went to stand on the side of the house Safe By the water meter And I laid down my cups Laughing
So the moral of this story Although I think it’s obvious Is to Go With The Flow
Venice parties You know those 200 in a space made for 50? A monster that You had to Protect yourself from?
Three of us In the living room and I got To the Kitchen. For safety.
Serving adequate, and me on my way back Drinks in each hand Bodies through Dana leading Her arms above her head bouncing she won’t spill a drop The other hands follow again, me with stubborn arms refusing thus liquid contents emptied and Sticky the floor underfoot Splashed
Outside The water meter stood laughing told us about the flow and to go with it
Resist to the one who builds a small house and says: well I am here. Resist the one who came home again and says: Glory be to God. Resist on the Persian carpet of apartment buildings to the short man in the office in the company import - export in public education in the tax to me still telling you.
Resist to the one who greets from the podium for hours endless parades to this barren lady who shares forms of saints Lebanon and myrrh to me still telling you.
Resist all those who are called great again to the President of the Court of Appeal resist in music the drums and percussion at all the talking conferences counselors drink coffee to all who write speeches about the time next to the winter heater in flattery the wishes in so many bows from scribes and cowards for their wise leader.
Resist the services of foreigners and passports in the terrible flags of the states and diplomacy in ammunition factories to those who say nice words lyricism in thurias in sweet songs with lamentations to the spectators in the wind to all the indifferent and the wise to others who make your friend as well as to me, to me still telling you resist. Then we can confidently move on to Freedom.