chaos.
on the street
in my head
on the tv
in the room.
i stand innocent.
it swims around me.
i live the silent
movie.
bam...fast
furious
fire
strong
midnight express.
sleeping in the bronx,
smelling deep history
race, creed,
industrialized waste,
toxic to my system,
messy, grimy,
how do people live
like this?
..fixing for a taste
of home,
not going to come so
easy
feeling queasy.
new york, new york, giant
jungle
people fight to stay
alive
dyin' inside but
hungry like tigers
fast and furious they
push
whoosh goes the train
like
hunter and hunted,
subway speed and kids
doing tricks street side.
do they know what's
going on in the south?
nothing comes out of
this boy's mouth but
"yeah, wanna buy my
pet lizard
got no disease"
the dis-ease of our
nation
is seen on these
streets
exemplified thrice
fold.
now what?
i am alone in my
thought on this
how do i make it clear
without inciting fear.
while tears wash away
in the floods of new orleans.
where do we all go
from here?
fear is the one thing
stopping.it.all.
i contemplate while i
wait for my pizza slice
filled with cheese,
grease and my god it's delicious,
down in alphabet city,
with the sleaze and
cuban restaurants with
melodic guitars and voices and drums
and beer and wine bars
and young girls with tats
and black berets and
striped socks.
sleeping on the
street.
she sleeps. or
dribbles not sure.
i eat. i look around
and find i'm in hell
how ironic as i am in
love with it all.
it drives my creative
muse
and i refuse to be of
it
but in it in any case.
alive and kicking i
also am with it,loving it
performing in it,
feeling it.
now what?
i find the keyboard
and
feel the ivories at
c-note,
a dive bar that
eases my mood.
i drink cheap beer.
magic of lower east
side.
new york city has me
by the hook, line and sinker
and i'm not fine with
what i see,
the black concrete
playgrounds,
and a city losing
time.
no time, all the time,
every time
people fast, forward
in your face.
..and hard truck
sounds and taxi cabs that don't stop when you
put your hand up high
and say "stop" i am crossing this god damn street.
"stop" with the
cockroaches and the grit on my glass of water.
"stop" with the urine
down on the L line
people live with this
going to work and back
and they don't see
this simple fact,
they live in tunnels
on the way from here to there
tunnels under the
roads, the labyrinth of codes.
"stop" the chatter
inside my head of fear and 9/11 and clubs that don't pay
or leave it ambiguous
like they don't know what an artist needs.
what does an artist need?
the feeling of connection...
whispering my thoughts ....do they know,
...do they know what is really
going on?
are we all so centrifugal to our own moment
our own journey?
was this book really created for me?
"go" with my heart, my pulse, the instinct
to be alive, and enjoy this fast
journey,
the ploy, the
entrancing feeling of living on the edge and feeling
history,.. on 42nd
street.
where
i stayed last year
in 5 star hell
and finally, finally
performed on broadway with a python at
that.
new york city town hall.
i have done it.
now what?
how does it feel?
what's real to my heart my ambition to know
....to know i have grabbed what i wanted to
do
in '92, as i rollerbladed through these
steamy streets with Backstage mag in my hands
and dreams in my
heart,
and naivety
in my lungs and all i
felt was fun and cold and hot
and all the stuff that
makes an artist alive, wanting, yearning, begging for a stage
to be heard.
living on adrenalin
and hard dreams, ambitions to fruition
i want to be heard..
new york city. do you hear me? do you feel me? do you want me?
BUT i have done it.
already.
i have made it real
and lived broadway
and succeeded
for whatever that
success means? what does it really mean?
this constant fire in
my belly that says
more more more
NOW WHAT?
i turn to the burbs
big houses, large
windows
fancy mercedes SUVs
and i sit here on the couch
wondering.
now what?
while... an old lady
dies in a hospital and i'm left holding my friend's baby
so calm and soft
she smiles
with the innocence of
mother nature
she calms my mind.
the innocence of
children
reminds me that i must look at life through
a child's eyes
at all times
to survive
my own ambition.
now what?
NOW. Now is WHAT.
i breathe in
i submerge to
dreamland to breathe some more
and feel the blue sky
beating it's heat
reminding me of life
and love and california and passion surging, coursing through me
. i live an
extraordinary life.
give me another slice.
gilli
moon . september 10. 2005. manhattan.