Low Red Moon journal

        Sunday, April 17, 2005

        Meanwhile...

        Robyn wrote: I'm sorry, this may demonstrate how Decemberist-challenged I am and how Nick Cave owns anything beginning with 'Red Right,' but: 'Red Right Ankle'? Oh, yes indeed. "Red Right Ankle," as follows (just imagine me singing):

        This is the story of your red right ankle
        And how it came to meet your leg
        And how the muscle, bone, and sinews tangled
        And how the skin was softly shed

        And how it whispered "Oh adhere to me
        For we are bound by symmetry
        And whatever differences our lives have been
        We together make a limb."
        This is the story of your red right ankle.

        This is the story of your gypsy uncle
        You never knew 'cause he was dead
        And how his face was carved and rift with wrinkles
        In the picture in your head.

        And remember how you found the key
        To his hideout in the Pyrenees
        But you wanted to keep his secret safe
        So you threw the key away.
        This is the story of your gypsy uncle.

        This is the story of the boys who loved you
        Who love you now and loved you then
        Some were sweet, some were cold and snuffed you
        Some just laid around in bed.

        Some had crumbled you straight to your knees
        Did it cruel, did it tenderly
        Some had crawled their way into your heart
        To rend your ventricles apart
        This is the story of the boys who loved you
        This is the story of your red right ankle.


        And, while we're at it, Larne wrote: Ah yes, The Other Universe. I sensed a distinct opening to it at 2 am one morning, but it was about the diameter of a quark and I couldn't get through. (Though I'm not sure my The Other Universe is the same as your The Other Universe. Mine has gravity in it — and people discussing quantum theories of gravity in elegant sitting rooms equipped with OLED blackboards).

        See "Onion." Willa in the bathroom, which may, or may not, make my comment clearer.

        Okay, so don't ever say I'm not interactive. I leave you with this image, to be burned deeply into the quivering jelly of your optic lobes:


        What I want to know, personally, is who...or WHAT...is she attempting to summon with her Evil Telepathic (three-fingered) Dance Salute?


        12:58 PM


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