Sunday, September 25, 2011

back on The Roof

Everything about Mariah Carey's The Roof changed my thinking.
 a transformative collision at the very least. 
its lyrics changed the way I thought about writing, about poetry. It reshifted my  love imagination, the way I prepared to dream.
     fantastical. And its whimsical dark mien changed the way I approached fashion, 
                      and the way I heard hip hop. 
It nudged me, pushing me to dream. It told me it was okay to close my eyes and indulge;
ignore the advisory from others against frivolity. Whispering just listen, just daydream.




           I painted my fingernails and toenails the color of burgundy and bought my imitation Sergio Valente jeans. . . I flipped my fluffy, relaxed hair in the mirror and sang each chord with a Rita Dove-like conviction, swaying like a blind pianist caught in a tune...

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