Blood Musk

June 08, 2006 - 9:30

Last night I dreamt I was backstage at a musical with a bunch of haggard heavily made-up women. I was dressed as a typical colonial wench, with a dusty mop as my prop. I was anxious, and kept carelessly tapping the butt of the mop against the floor; until finally it gave me a sliver that bled. I shuddered, and realized that I was involved in something sinister. When at last we got our cue, all of us moved out in a cluster together, and purposefully out of tune we sang:
"We'll wear our perfume, so give us some room!" or variations on. I remember singing at one point: "We know this room, so hear us moan." Which was my own fuck up, because it was supposed to rhyme, if nothing else. A few of the old women were making boisterous theatre laugh instead of singing. To the audience, who seemed giddy, we were the comic relief in what was otherwise a tragic play. I knew we were real witches putting a curse on the audience, though.

I watched Rosemary's Baby last night.