going to prom with Marc Bolan

I dreamt I was in a bathroom getting dressed up to go to prom. I had this huge wig with flowers, and shoes covered with flowers that I threw across the floor and down the stairs in a fit. The outfit was over the top glam. But I began to feel stupid I was going to prom, going back to school to see all the kids I grew up with -why in the world was I going back there ??

The first time and last time I ever went to prom was when I was 15. My best friend and I had already dropped out of high school but we decided we would go to prom anyway, just for kicks. In the tradition of prom, you have to have a date, so we asked this guy Buffalo Bill who was a local bum in the small town we grew up in and a drinking buddy of ours at the time. He was delighted to come be our escort and had picked out a tye dye tuxedo complete with tyedye socks, shirt, tye, bandana, the works ! He had put his prom outfit on about a week before in anticipation but on the day of prom he was nowhere to be seen. We were pretty disappointed but didn't let it get to us, as we slugged back 40oz of Mickeys by the cliffs in our wedding dresses and leather jackets. Later we found out he had been m.i.a. cos he was arrested for multiple counts of arson around the area. The night itself was a total blackout, as I awoke in the morning in the bed of a good friends boyfriend, who had apparently rescued me from the madness.. Vague memories of cliff jumping ( a popular game those days, jumping off a cliff overlooking the sea that has lots of brush, rolling and catching yourself before you crack your head open and fall into the water), kissing alot of of people, and rolling around in the gutter outside the dance like a pig, totally delighted and mad.

In the dream I stepped out of this futuristic car as an old woman who was my chauffeur opened the door coming out the ceiling. In that moment it dawned on me that I wasn't going to prom for the people but to celebrate T-rex's album "The Slider". It was like I was married to that album, and my dress, my desire to go, everything about it was simply to worship and celebrate the music.
It was more than a ritual. It was religion.
My body was like a birthday cake, dressed in the drug of the music, lit with the candles which were the thousands and millions of dreams and lust and burning desires all inspired by shimmying to the movements of The Slider, Mystic Lady, Baby Boomerang...
In the way that people go to church to pray and hear stories about Jesus, stand in the pews and sing their songs of devotion, the church of rock n roll has always been about getting glammed up, going out into the night... and Marc Bolans songs have always been like prayers to me.
Just as I realized this, an old crippled woman was walking across the ballroom floor. I was still getting ready, but went to her to help her get across. We walked out the door, and around, back in to where we started, in a circular motion.
It reminded me of the cycle of life, how some things will never change, the eternal desire to live, to break free.. to dance !

GOD BLESS MARC BOLAN::::