Read Online A Breath Until Forever by Keira D. Skye - Free Book Online
Authors: Keira D. Skye
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seem to know much of a difference between old meadows and sidewalk streets, who got excited about stars that really weren't stars and who didn't know much about life, except how to love family and work a job. Who earned his living working hard with sweat and tears, in a run down steel factory, and who carried a pocket knife in his sock, hesitation in his brow, a handkerchief in his back pocket. And he was curious about her. Who lived like a gypsy. Who moved like an unsettling breeze. Who would rather stray, then stay still. And was a traveling push pin on a map.
She slid her small hands deep into the flimsy pockets of her hippie dress. Her left sided pocket had a hole in it, and she felt her one slender finger, snake through the rip. With her other hand, she placed it carefully on her hip, as if she were a teapot, to give herself more theatrical flare. “And skin's appalling petals, how inspired to be living in the living room drunk naked and dreaming in the absence in the electricity over and over eating the low root of the asphodel gray fate...rolling in generation of the flowery couch as on a bank in Arden, my only rose tonight's the treat of my own nudity.” She quoted, verbatim, in a slow and steady rhythm to emphasize the rhyme with beatnik ethnicity as if she was the poetess and creator of such heavy lyricism.
She looked over at him. Told him the poem was by Allen Ginsberg, her other husband who she married in the celebration of poetic justice.
“It's beautiful, really.” Was his reply, amazed that she retained a memory equal to that of young woman in which he went to college with. She was intelligent, and he liked that, and not only that, but brought that intelligence to a higher degree which only made her smarter, almost genius like.
“Yeah, I've read some of his stuff back in college.” He commented, remember his English course he had taken, which also threw him into the depths of Jack Kerouac and Lucien Carr. He had liked Ginsberg. There was a sensuality about him, an enchantment of new visions that formed altruism and promiscuity alike. “I like poetry. Puts you under a spell you know. Something like what drugs do when they give you that hallucinogenic effect. They appeal to the moment of who we are in the now, and who we have been and who we have yet to become, all the while flying you on this wild and magical carpet ride.”
Meredith smiled. Evenly and large. Unlike anyone else that she ever met, like Benjamin and Daniel, the book club girls at the coffee shop, Appollo from Africa, Joshua got it. He actually got it! And that made her deliriously happy.
The crickets had started chirping and the opera of their hindsight of their insect violins dissected noisily in the air. There was something almost bewitching happening right now, as if she was in a fairy land whisked far, far away from reality.
“You went to college?” Meredith appeared rather surprised that Joshua had attended a higher education of any sort, as he didn't seem to be the type to study. Rather, he came into view before her as a strong and brawny man who would rather get his hands dirty on chopping up wood and doing manual labor, rather than sticking his nose in between the books.
“Yeah, up in Berkeley. University of California. For about a year.” He answered.
“What were you studying?” She asked, curious as to what a rough guy like this would ever possibly want to take up if he had the chance to go to college.
“Pre med.”
Meredith was both surprised, and instantly impressed.
“Pre med. Wow.” She repeated him, while her eyes popped wide with alert. “What happened?”
“Life you know? All that good stuff.” He kicked a small pebble on purpose. It lightly flew in the air like a tiny rocket, then dropped off, lightly splashing in a small mud puddle.
He couldn't face her. Too embarrassed about his bad choices that were also good ones.
“Dropped out.
She slid her small hands deep into the flimsy pockets of her hippie dress. Her left sided pocket had a hole in it, and she felt her one slender finger, snake through the rip. With her other hand, she placed it carefully on her hip, as if she were a teapot, to give herself more theatrical flare. “And skin's appalling petals, how inspired to be living in the living room drunk naked and dreaming in the absence in the electricity over and over eating the low root of the asphodel gray fate...rolling in generation of the flowery couch as on a bank in Arden, my only rose tonight's the treat of my own nudity.” She quoted, verbatim, in a slow and steady rhythm to emphasize the rhyme with beatnik ethnicity as if she was the poetess and creator of such heavy lyricism.
She looked over at him. Told him the poem was by Allen Ginsberg, her other husband who she married in the celebration of poetic justice.
“It's beautiful, really.” Was his reply, amazed that she retained a memory equal to that of young woman in which he went to college with. She was intelligent, and he liked that, and not only that, but brought that intelligence to a higher degree which only made her smarter, almost genius like.
“Yeah, I've read some of his stuff back in college.” He commented, remember his English course he had taken, which also threw him into the depths of Jack Kerouac and Lucien Carr. He had liked Ginsberg. There was a sensuality about him, an enchantment of new visions that formed altruism and promiscuity alike. “I like poetry. Puts you under a spell you know. Something like what drugs do when they give you that hallucinogenic effect. They appeal to the moment of who we are in the now, and who we have been and who we have yet to become, all the while flying you on this wild and magical carpet ride.”
Meredith smiled. Evenly and large. Unlike anyone else that she ever met, like Benjamin and Daniel, the book club girls at the coffee shop, Appollo from Africa, Joshua got it. He actually got it! And that made her deliriously happy.
The crickets had started chirping and the opera of their hindsight of their insect violins dissected noisily in the air. There was something almost bewitching happening right now, as if she was in a fairy land whisked far, far away from reality.
“You went to college?” Meredith appeared rather surprised that Joshua had attended a higher education of any sort, as he didn't seem to be the type to study. Rather, he came into view before her as a strong and brawny man who would rather get his hands dirty on chopping up wood and doing manual labor, rather than sticking his nose in between the books.
“Yeah, up in Berkeley. University of California. For about a year.” He answered.
“What were you studying?” She asked, curious as to what a rough guy like this would ever possibly want to take up if he had the chance to go to college.
“Pre med.”
Meredith was both surprised, and instantly impressed.
“Pre med. Wow.” She repeated him, while her eyes popped wide with alert. “What happened?”
“Life you know? All that good stuff.” He kicked a small pebble on purpose. It lightly flew in the air like a tiny rocket, then dropped off, lightly splashing in a small mud puddle.
He couldn't face her. Too embarrassed about his bad choices that were also good ones.
“Dropped out.
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