8 October 2005

A Plausibility with No Gain-say

I know my head is my worst enemy
Swallowed too much of it and started to believe
I know my heart is my worst enemy
Swallowed too much of it and started to believe

Searchlights like sand probes grate the flesh with pale whitewashes crackling a static sulphuric acid into our cement cortices. Our hooves wont slide so nearly now, this devilish burning carving out our steps in train. Some philosophe I am, yet to live and stretch the limbs I’m given in mind and spirit, long needing the space of a depopulated realm, all stunted mind and wishing-well beliefs driving ecstasy in a haze of morgue-ish anticipation. A black eyelash as key initiate floundering in the gentle up-wave and breeze path, coasting medially back on the ethmoidal daylight shuddering at the fragrance of the woman we begot in our easy, heady smoked dreams. We crave the horizon with its pearl sculpted fuchsia tendrils draining out past the humid lines in brows and corniced crowns, a canvas of pertinent sharpening the knife blade to rod and temple stone, just sheering slant edge back and crossing the chiasma sleeping by seconds on shoulder crook.
The archetypical demon whorling and heaving in the sidewalk parks, this earth is a breathing animal slow fuming with exhilaration; this mist bathing us beastly. Where I come from people don’t have fins and scales, just smooth pink fingers and thin pinna folds, they chuckle and trip in their theological malaise, vaulting the hoarse mouths lisping out blue peat and a spice called virtue. But all the terrible things these monsters say just eddying in the dark pools we all once visited.

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