i’m a shared rune coiled tightly around the extra emetics you took. laughing in a state of uncomfortable silence. hands folded and refolded underneath the table. shotgun sweat pouring out my shoes onto the coffee-stain floor. you’re alive, i exclaim! how wonderful! now maybe we can get back to business. let’s go over this cliff. it’s halfway back to where we live. i’m alive! she cried. i’m an oily onion skin. i’m swallowing all kinds of sardine-can silhouetted ideas and finding how much you’ve always unmeant to me. you’re a fructose corn syrup eye dropper pointed right at the pupil of my brain. you swelled up to an enormous bloated size, which punctured on passersby.
frequently, i lay down in the street waiting. holding my hands up directing traffic. cars swerve around me. a giant wooden man pops out of the manhole near my feet. shows me how to carve some new features into his face. he is awash in a sea of silverfish swarming over his mouth hands life and eyes. i read you notes from the pentatonic scale. coal shovels in the basement. tiny tendrils reaching out to stop me from pulling them. instead pulling me in. enveloping me in a subterranean sweetness. where balloon animals run and clown makeup flows freely through the gutters like blood after a massacre. the man’s name was john doe. he was king of the world. you should have known better. i should have known better. its a long slow washing process. a diabetes shot taken to cure a cancer. a liquid infusion of manhood and territorial pissings. a frequent ejaculatory remark made and unmade each day in the darkness. a slow slide into the mundane. a mandate for humpback whales. frozen in time. transported through centuries and bus terminals and roman arenas. a whale out of water laughing great bouts of baleen and krill just flying fucking everywhere. you were a walrus and i was a narwhal. and when last i looked, the two of us had switched places and bodies. and i was your unwelcome homecoming. and you were my self-righteous indignation. and the two shot up like fireworks and froze there. small mammals - probably rodents (it’s always rodents) – climbed up the paper trails and built a nest among the sparkling concrete trees we left. a bucket full of rocks. and upside down umbrella. a beer bottle smashed to smithereens. a ramp leading down into the basement.
the carving of the virgin mary in the living room smiled down at me, touched my forehead. tears stream down both our faces.
- END -
ASSOCIATED CONTENT @TMBCHR (Auto-Generated)
- No related posts
