Sunday, 30 July 2006

i'm powerless to resist the gypsy punks

.. and from the cold, still night i eased back the canvas and pushed my way into the tent. muted blues and blacks parted like the red sea and fell away to colour; such explosions and waves of colour. like a fire had been lit and the people within were aflame. gut red, ivory white, earth brown. the stench of sweet sweat circled and pushed me further into the throng. i disappeared for a moment, swept up in the writhing mass of bodies. the mighty noise lifted me upward where i could gasp for air. sound and colour and light and dizziness combined into one viceral punch and pounded my body side to side. then my focus left. and the band roared.

then in an instant, for a moment, silence. a battle raged in the stillness, sirens in the distance. until...

slicing through the thick air like wire through flesh came the violin. one shrill note pierced the masses. it lasted for days. a moment. an age. the throng; caught for a second, paused, petrified, like stone. eyes closed.

then, then the demons came
go to the bordello

thump thump thump thump. they burst through the canvas ceiling leaving portals to the sky in their wake. and the violin joined by accordian and drums and cymbal. guitar shouted. bass pounded. dogs were barking, monkeys were clapping, and gypsies sang of illumination, they sang of strength. they told me of the time of ancients, the time where there was only dance and song. where all men laughed and all women writhed with pleasure. and the audience jumped and fisted the moonlight canopy.

and men laughed.

and women writhed with pleasure.

and in the middle, the girl with the blood red dress swayed with shut eyes. her marble-black hair fallen about her shoulders and clung to the moisture dripping down her spine. arched back. muscles swam 'neath olive-brown skin as she rolled her head from one side to other. buttocks slid beneath silk. thighs parted and closed and hands carved senseless shapes in the air.

and the band played on. gold-chained gypsy women screamed. the mustachioed chieftan commanded the warriors below. men chanted. a spell drowned the crowd. panic followed by praise followed by ecstacy followed by nostalgia followed by catharsis. then another song. and another. and while we danced time fell away, taking with it the existence of all the world outside of the tent. the hours fell like jigsaw pieces 'til there was only us and the band and me and the girl in the blood dress dancing in the distance.

intoxicated by my own flowing blood i forgot the rest of the world.
until silence finally brought sobriety.

your new favourite band

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