My neighbor casually iterated my own motto to me:
"One day all women will be naked," it was a casual
remark, seeing spring in the air but I had spent years
in the desert wandering over the sand hand in hand
with Ezekiel & Pan & Orpheus & Tiresias as we all
wondered what to do until the aliens came down with
food &water & dancing girls. Our eyes opened, we
the assembled prophets & we knew at that moment
that far off into the future for days untold, there would
be a creator who would deem it so, that one day &
on & on all women would be naked. I had hid myself
away & cried that day for they were still clothed but
I knew someday I would see every woman on earth
naked. Present day: the Internet. My neighbor's remark
made me reflect on days gone by, such as when if one
wanted to see a naked lady one had to go where
the naked ladies were; strip clubs & go-go bars. I used
to spend my lunches in one when I wore a suit &
when I moved to a new neighborhood I'd search them
out along with funky little coffee shops; strippers &
hipsters completed a circuit ever so briefly, a mini
renaissance; randomly picking up on conversations
& posing for portraits, wild painting, hooking up,
experimenting, experiencing trauma together, & then
drifting apart, vaguely recalling, maybe. Where I am
currently there no strippers & no hipsters; as if I'm
back in the desert my ethereal companions at my side;
my creative genius waiting to erupt as if newly born.