mmmdcclix

That one moment when I believed

change was possible is impossible to
change. You can’t go back. Not that

I know of, anyway. I realize that there
are times when you want me to say more

here. And, as with anywhere, there are
times when you really want me to shut up.

There’s a dance song about drag queens
and disco that is just obscure enough that

I sometimes spend hours trying to find it,
to remember who the DJ was, what year

it came out, which floor it first floored me.
It’s mostly spoken. Another song always

gets in the way when I’m on this quest; it
must have come out around the same time.

You got to believe. I don’t know the name
of that one, either, but it was more ubiquitous,

and there was that repeated line in the chorus.
We all did, too. It could have been an instant

between the song about drag queens at the disco
and hearing You got to believe. It wasn’t that

I had given up hope. Absolutely not. It was
that the world was just so perfect that there

was not one single piece of falling glitter
that was out of place. We were all free.

There wasn’t any tomorrow. And being
who we were at that very moment was all

there was. We’d each try to describe in words 

the half-existence of both the ceiling and the 

floor and, much more vividly, the glowing petals
of the moon (or, in many cases, the name of

some obscure blooming plant) that were
oscillating in hundreds or thousands or

millions of ringlets down at us and up to
us from the sky and the ground of the place,

respectively, and with respect, glimmering
in morse code, without sending out any SOS.

“Then was everything we wanted,” was a
quote that would be noted verbatim on more

than just a few pages of the detailed report. “We
had arrived,” as well. “There’s no place like home,”

said one girl, who was not from Kansas, anymore.
“Birds flyin’ high, you know how I feel.” Yes, I do.