Gatsby
stood
glancing over dark water,
like Kant at his church steeple, gathering thoughts…
Curious tremble.
Arms outstretched towards emerald light.
The orgastic future,
that-year-by-year-recedes-before-us.
Pursuit of a moment;
love frozen in his past.
His feminine jewel, his green, shimmering, feminine jewel.
Sipping chartreuse from fluted crystal.
Daisy, the dainty, docile, debutante, desired by young Americans.
The dream icing….
Surely a man could reclaim what was once his?….
Fifth avenue.
Dust. Car horns. Heat.
Yard-long billboard eyes
of bespectacled Dr. Eckleburg
watch Gatsby hand over
illegal liquor swag
for the mansion across the bay from Daisy…
Dr. Eckelburg doesn’t care.
Traffic lights say green! Go!
Go, go, green, run, faster, green, go, rev, light, run, go, fast
Fade.
Green, go, rev, green, fast, go, go, go…
Fade.
Daisy drove the death car that killed Myrtle.
Daisy let YOU take the blame….
Chartreuse frozen in fluted crystal.
Boats against the current,
bourne back,
ceaselessly into the past.
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