moonage daydream

with a movie ticket to Bowies moonage daydream, I wait in the lounge, alone with strangers. It’s a secret pleasure of mine to see a movie on my own. I watch a ballerina dance with her wine glass. So give me a dollar of your money and a minute of your time. A moonage daydream and I begin to believe in my dreams. What seemed impossible in my life no longer does. Poets don’t have thick skins, we absorb everything, from a casual conversation to a phd thesis, from a house plants photosynthesis to a child’s innocence. Observations written down in a notebook, a satellite capturing the images of unknown worlds. On the red carpet I saw the trail of blood from everyone who’s gone before and lost their lives. A long time ago David Bowie came to me in a dream and told me to call him dada, an art movement of painters and poets and an affectionate name for papa. Just like the leadsinger of the band ‘Moonlover had David Bowie come to him in a dream and give him the title of his album ‘though shall be free’