Friday, January 13, 2012
page 62
sweet just a little girl with dreams of boys in the backseats of cars she said that I couldn’t touch her but the cards said differently the deck was always stacked as high as fuck a prophecy stuck in her throat she wanted to fly nibbled but still identifiable injected toes they know the way to Flatbush warm little globs of fat they could pass back then as repentant whimsy you liked it with whipped cream I’m not sure if it was with real cream or the oily kind she would practice saying the names of the saints if you can see them then they can see you once they see you then you will never be the same it took a bathtub filled with water and an electrical cord graced my lips just like a meal I’m sitting here in the dark trying to remember the last word you said addict me I think turn the switch maybe I looked up your poems on the internet and only found five they were all about your past lovers none of them were about me you used to see yourself in all of my writings where do you see yourself now I have donated all of my verbs to local charities I don’t think they wanted them but they took them anyway they must be used to sad hearts with nothing left to give to be held in the hollowed out cavity in my chest I can get my whole arm in there I am a miracle of science I should be quiet now I wonder if they are counting my keystrokes if they seem too many will they send Agent Smith to interrogate me will he comment on the stink of humanity will the veins in my forehead stick out will harpo arrive with a helicopter to bust me out pulling the bars of my jail cell tearing down the walls harpo doesn’t say much but he is a man of action harpo can pick locks so we didn’t need to leave the sliding glass door unlocked the little school girl is thinking about love indifference and chicken tacos I stopped trying to understand her mind a long time ago she looked lonely sitting in her big office pretending to be working I stopped pretending a long time ago but she is new here and she hasn’t figured out how things work here harpo is wearing a tie with a duck on it when he walks by my office he quacks tonya is cooking beets into a broth she can hear the devouring hugo and I are standing in the hot lunch line I pull harpo out of my pocket he has a smile like a traveling republican I almost want to believe in him he has the girth of artificial conditions artificial Christmas trees with that fake white snow harpo has his red suit on and is sticking his thumb into the big pot of the soup of the day this makes hugo laugh and the little school girl nervous I tell her not to worry that harpo doesn’t have any manners his mother was too busy fighting in Iraq to teach him any harpo is not connected to the sun his id runs amok defiling the temple drink greedily little school girl to basement with a death stare and the laugh of a ghoul she would kiss them first then kill them one and all symbolically and in the flesh come bring this bowl of life put it up to the school girl’s lips she smiled and reached across the table for the razor blade she said that this life was not hers to give they all belonged to AC he was the one who determined who lived and who died it was the school girl’s responsibility only to obey she took a bite we all took a bite and the little devil jumped up on the table and did a dance wishing for the words to show that you placed a man as your god instead of the sun life comes from the sun we are children of the stars the light is the mediator we are coming out of the feet giving the kingdom to Saturn understanding the science
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