So fucking stupid. To bring out this coffin once more and perform the rite to raise these bones which were better off dead asleep. To wrap them back in flesh and send them out to build. But no, drag them into the light to scream and fight for something and care about the air which is breathed.
I can think of no other reason why these pictures were hung for me to look at in the middle of the forest with fires underneath them. Threatening.
Could these fires be progress??
Could these fires scorch and cook the flesh??
And here I stand with this look on my face, a firetender of old, I am. I am the I am, s/d T. Over and over the mantra to push through my head, righting the capsized boat of my mind.
Long ago, there was not this and long ago there was worse. And this is where I stand, with this look on my face. Deer in the headlights of Destiny's hearse. Motherfuckers.
I can think of no other reason why these pictures were hung for me to look at in the middle of the forest with fires underneath them. Threatening.
Could these fires be progress??
Could these fires scorch and cook the flesh??
And here I stand with this look on my face, a firetender of old, I am. I am the I am, s/d T. Over and over the mantra to push through my head, righting the capsized boat of my mind.
Long ago, there was not this and long ago there was worse. And this is where I stand, with this look on my face. Deer in the headlights of Destiny's hearse. Motherfuckers.
posted by Footprint | 8:01 AM
3 Comments:
I hate cleaning my attic too. Burn it down. Works for me...every time.
yes, but i've packratted so much stuff that i might have something useful in here!! LOL!!
ANy poem that ends with 'motherfuckers' is good in my book. But really, my favorite part is the mantra line.
Mantra is such a good word.
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