Djinn Friends


Indian Joseph is grooving on a corner of Park Wall near The Market Place. Passing the moments vibe surfing as evening falls. He will be a junior in high school next Fall. An explorer of his own adolescence and endocrine system. The jumble of hormones and brain.Young ancient mind taking flight, angel, avatar,mortal child, a young male changeling on a shining treacherous path. He is all of sixteen years old.
Simply sitting here thinking about everything and nothing in particular as individuals begin to appear along the wall. When someone is speaking, open an ear to the brain
.
What, who is that? Someone around the same age, a peer in the ambient culture petri dish of the place and time. He appears with a big poofy halo of hair, colored beads necklace, wide handmade gypsy belt, hippie rock style.
Haven’t seen you around the wall before. What's your name?
Joseph
You look like a native american Joseph, are you ?
Am I what, Joseph or a native american?
Hahaha, funny, I like that.
Do I look native american?
Well, you do. Those high top fringed moccasins you have on really look brave.
Ok, I am then. (Indian Joseph) Who are you?
Carzilla Hermanando or just Car.
That’s a cool name
I'm Cuban, to escape persecution by the regime my parents fled to the US when I was small.
Have you been to The Marketplace yet?
I was up there earlier, (Behind The Scenes).
I saw a girl I knew from my old high school across town.
We used to talk on the phone some.
Is she a Head?
Don’t think so, she and her date looked like straights. She looked through both of us.
Anyway, they weren’t behind the scenes like me.
Behind the scenes is a mental stage man.
It’s for whomever wants to go there, only found It because It found you first.

A young thin guy with long straight brown hair carrying a guitar case is walking towards the Wall .Multiple perspectives converge in the metaphor of a human body.Youthful innocence mixed with songs of the ancient ones somehow conveyed in human form kinetic motion.Steven approaches. He is friends with Carzillo.

Hey Steven, have you met Indian Joseph?
Joseph, this is Steven Fancy, he’s a great guitar player.
Do you sing? You guys could start a fantastic band, I could do the Light Show.

[At a time in the not too distant future Steven and Joseph would be tripping out at a nearby university campus music concert watching Carzilla perform day- glo amoeba petri dish light shows to the music of Pink Floyd’s Set The Controls For The Heart of The Sun. Micro dots dancing on an oil film liquid wonder beneath the surface .]

I’m probably not musical. I do write some though. Poetry.
Well, you have the Rock look man, that’s the thing.

[The mind is a time traveller, an organic time machine. It grows in you. It grows on you. Being everywhere at once with a key to go.
Steven and I used to talk about such things a lot. In some ways we still do, in a detached phantasmagorical fashion.
Youth was a fanciful, harrowing journey of illusions, pitfalls, minefields and joyous exclamation points. Questioning without question we were artists and we were escape artists which has more meanings than immediately appears upon the surface of things.]






Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2026-07-22 at 20:44

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