Spinwheel Corpse Dance
Outside the town of people who thought they were alive and living was an unusual graveyard. In it were corpses that responded everytime a song theme was noted. The corpses were great romantics. Seemed odd. Because in life, they had been pragmatists, skeptics and people who were so jaded, it was ridiculous.
So how did they become such romantics in their states of decay and decomposition? Someone must have cast a spell… Because as each layer of skin was removed by rot, they seemed to lose that defensiveness and become what they should have been.
Yet there was no soul in them… So how? Had a spell been cast? Was there a ley line nearby?
What were the themes? I was curious enough to go down to the graveyard and take along some CDs to see for myself.
As the music came to life, the corpses lay there undisturbed thru dance hits, even ones that were a bit macabre. They didn’t seem to be a huge fan of pop iconic classics either. There was a rustling in some of the deeper metal and classic rock stuff. Ok not dancing, but they were listening now. It was like they were getting ready…
I could see the shades of three figures, one man and two women who deferred to his judgment, as the music became more and more romantic. About love lost and heartbreak. They weren’t really into quests, wars or heroes. They wanted passion and loss, to hear from the forlorn.
So finally I gave them what they wanted…
Off in the night, while you live it up, I’m off to sleep
Waging wars to shape the poet and the beat
I hope it’s gonna make you notice
I hope it’s gonna make you notice
Someone like me
Someone like me (Kings of Leon)
The shades of the other corpses finally rose where I could see them, and tbh it kinda spooked me. But the three primary shades were dancing. A bit of shuck and jive, dips and thrusts, and the occasional cheek to cheek. Even though they never really lasted long together, they kept coming back to the man. You could see the passion in their moves. Well, the women anyways. He was a bit of a lech and standoffish. It seemed like he was cruising for another to take their place, really. He was making time with them.
How blue can I get, you could ask my heart
Just like a jigsaw puzzle it’s been torn all apart
A million words couldn’t say just how I feel
A million years from now, you know, I’ll be loving you still
The night are lonely, the days are so sad
And I just keep thinkin’ about the love that we had
And I’m missing you and nobody knows it but me (The Tony Rich Project)
The crowd of corpses were rustling. And honestly, the air was beginning to stink. How could it not, with all that rot shaking about? I put my scarf over my mouth and nose, just so I could breathe.
One more song,.. just to see what they would do with it?
Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
But had me believing it was always something that I’d done
But I don’t wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn’t catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know (Gotye)
A third woman came up behind the male of the three, and grabbed him. Dragged him underground and held him. The crowd of corpses finally started grooving, like this was the cue they had been waiting for.
And out of the ground, came shoots of green, Each seed had a root, each root a plant, each plant a flower and a bee who spread the pollen. And there arose a poem of nionsense and trite dismay like someone who was clinically depressed wrote it.
There were rules and miters, there were flourishes and obsessions. But the crowd of corpses ate it up. Literally.
And the two women who loved him turned the words into something a learned ear could enjoy instead.
It seemed like they were the ones who would be what the man had best done. He became a memory for their artistry instead. A male muse, but nothing else remained of him.
But the crowd was gone. Only the two women who had felt the love were left dancing.
I went back several times, but from that night on, the two women were the stars of the dance. I never saw him again.
mspeachierocks 