The crayola monsters rose up from a kindergarten
desk top slithering wax writhing red tentacles reached up into baby
face through the eyes where pumpkin colored cut-out kites and paper
plate love letters for mom twirled glitterball magic Outside is the
courtyard with the cement cracks filled with black putty and grass tufts
and link fence with running shoes tied dangling laces. There are hopscotch
chalk marks and the little leapers hop to and fro; laughing laughing
and hopping about on their kitty pads, chasing sand birds, running and
pouting and pushing fat fingers up into the hot yellow sun ball. Inside
on the second floor there is napping and dreaming. Wee wee eyes see
a new road, a turn, more road, a turn and then the sun dilates and a
black drawbridge is hoisted up up and away. Bat things swirl backward
drain spit on the body a lovesick ointemnt and then begin raging like
free hair in an open convertible. Speeding cliffs, crashing breakwater,
the power of the heart race crankshaft and the noise makes you feel
very small like you are. It makes you afraid and slowly wipes out every
thought and decibals climb and you try and stop it but it's too late.
Careening oil slick hairpin catastrophe / burning wreck drop out. Now
the comfort; the Latex Body Baggie. Crawl inside with your sex muscle
and hop yourself over to the curb with the rest of humanity and the
Glad Bag pile up. Hey! You have survived the accident stress test and
have come out of the experience with only minor damage and no missing
apendages or noticeable surface defects.
How could anyone do anything else but acknowledge the vast differences between the rich and the poor when they are wiping their ass with a moistened sock? So yes NOW! It's about time and this time it must be for good; for the good of me and us all: I quit. No- one, like it or not, is separate from the rest so let's make it into something lucious and beautiful instead. I heard in a movie someone say that it was a sad and beautiful world. It won't be sad anymore, not now. I wake up in a gasping search for water, my mouth is as usual dry and sewerlike. I stumble into the water closet and woke up fast shrunk back at the horrible vision in the toothpaste splattered mirror. It was my own beat up face peering into the silvery looky looky glass. I was saddened to see that a lifestyle involving chemicals and poisons and other such popular status symbols had had such a noticeable impact on my bod. If this were to continue I would soon never be able to life my head out of the bed of sabotage and despair. That's all it's ever been actually. The days freshly constructed superstructure living quarter is tightly packed with fun fun dynamite and we spend hours and hours feeling better and better and then there is the fullfillment but then there must be a way to feel more better. So there is this wildly inviting oil fire calling the lemming song to us wee snow people and we dive in out of the chills and girl that feels goooood! But then you can feel the melt water turn to boil water
