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this fiction of mine laboured tightly in the skull of memories and mysteries worked to the wheel by furies who deal the willing thread in...

Sunday, October 19, 2014

nauseated


may we assume wrongfully 
and interpret poorly the absurd 
in our actions...oh civilization
we are full of facts of life meaningless
_we made them up in darkness and fear_
the phrases spell all and nothing
they are substantial and insignificant
it’s extreme pettiness or grandeur to mask
the trifling ridiculously silly beliefs in full

the bit set in long tall buildings with arches
banners and flags crowning their tops
statues and gargoyles in strategic places
support for much shadow and occasional clouds
the pope in yellow flips and puts on a veil
and it’s reality versus reality interacting
announcing modifying postponing fuckitall
robin williams on the score perfect casting
for pere ubu but we’ll never know

go find imaginary solutions in trees hanged
in harmony with satisfying coloring and economy
of detail diverse material for de sade’s portrait
back to being to be sickened by it
its bare detail moving the beholder on contact
the range from choice to chance
daniel deranged matthew delighted
to die on a rooftop was not his decision
nor was it to die _it comes naturally_
but once with reason handy 
it became a sure option
he could become his own child
dictate sentence on his own being
define his existence then and there
or at any bloody given moment
thus he chose to go along 
but circumstances placed him on that roof
and climax he would reach in a hail of bullets

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