Wednesday, November 16, 2011

page 4

planned I am sorry but it is true I guess that can be your absolute truth everything is fucked up I am writing you into a grave writing you into submission beating the hell out of you with my words bringing you a sack full of the coming world she said it was sex magic caught between the spiritual world and the physical world you help me move from one world to the other you cannot decide which world you want to exist in to be here with us physical creature or over there with our spiritual shadows sometimes you are convinced that the shadow world is more real than the physical you were rooting for Midori some part of you is always in the other world that village in the woods where they accept you as you are where they don’t question you motives or intentions you found it following a dead soldier from a long forgotten war losing the object of your desire what you once thought was important is no longer important a place of exile a room with sporting equipment they are heavy slow and powerful a good looking and sober eyed woman a language that is not of my first dreams but still a language that I can hold on to forgive me if I forget about you for a little while and glorify the whimsy that is this life we are grieving for our loss it is a loss that we have know for a very long time we gave  it a name and made it a home inside our hearts this loss a was a poor lonely beggar begging for scraps of meat at the door so many have shooed him away but I let him in a gave him a place a special place where he can grow in his utmost a sense of immorality that is very strong I do not give a damn for your morals that are the ideals and values of the weak you have glorified the weak and have made a fool your king it is your responsibility a vain and cruel wretch that appear from time to time to be human he is really just a jackal that should be kicked and beaten like the rest he is lulled into a deep sleep not being able to distrust the phony you have made the phony your king living in a false world a primitive world filled with glitter and remorse I was a one man multitude a Kinbote slashing and pointing my sword in your face challenging you to come out to play to be a warrior against the philistines in their seditious plot to pull the wool over your eyes one or two spicy digs the soul descends with Chrissy Georgio into hell as a teacher she is dangerous and dubious to the garden incinerator the illusion of spontaneous conversation great pains and mushroomed almost overnight the solution to the composition I cannot grudge her this with her sinister charms few can deny her queer pull the struggle with the snow on the driveway she tugs at her sweater and brings us the tray with drinks you kingdom for an ice cube or a tetrahedron the clearing of nervous throats why so nervous her high forehead with her hair pulled back exposing her little scar the same kind of acid-etched scene nothing is a exhilarating as American vulgarity feeding the trailer trash to the rich and vice versa it is the coliseum all over again can we get enough lions for the evening show there is nothing like the crunch of good Christian bone you can skip history class I will tell you everything you need to know about the past present and future the ascended fathers why are they fathers it must be some leftover patriarchy getting in between the cracks of your toes yes just some toe jam of paternalism and hierarchical thinking the female boner of feminist theory god bless you doctor baker you could roll it up and bake it in a pan

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