Lunchtime in the city, in the park, with the angular and furry winds, holding tightly to my loose baggie with jelly goo-goo blobbing itself everywhere, regretting that I forgot my napkins, but here I go again, licking my hands like a fiend and not giving a shit about what people think about me licking like a dog licks a puncture wound.
Friday and streets are so empty, but I’m not stupid. I feel the dead crawling beneath me in the jungles, the tangles of sandy sewers. When the living leave the city to do the shit that they think makes their lives worthwhile, such as water skiing from the dock at the lake house or traveling up the road to hang out with old buddies to drink and perhaps get drunk, this is when the dead start to get serious and start to move about like a storm, more furiously active than all of the scurrying rats on which they dance.
And when the dead are buzzing about below, that is when I feel the roots of all of my diseases, perhaps not so alone because when the fear subsides, I rest my body and focus my eyes, moving them slowly across the page, feeling a rich chocolate silk overcome my brains, sparkled by the arrangement of all of the words, but still alone with all of those diseases and all of the unfair artistic yearnings, watching my sharp object of architectural genius steam into the end of the sky and wonder why its massive American flag never seems to move despite all of the stirrings and blasty blooms of the wind here on the ground just above the nasty hurricanes of the dead who rise and blow gassy fires which grow my diseases up like big hot air balloons.
I resolve to go back to work and not hate myself as much as the dead require.
#1 by Indigo Spider on October 8, 2011 - 9:30 am
I’m not sure it is the dead who require us to hate ourselves but the other living; or the half-dead.
#2 by Carl on October 13, 2011 - 9:22 pm
I suppose it depends on whom you are hanging out with!
#3 by Evelyn on October 17, 2011 - 12:30 pm
ha! tee hee.
#4 by Carl on October 17, 2011 - 11:29 pm
Thank you for visiting. 🙂
#5 by Carl D'Agostino on October 9, 2011 - 7:29 am
The dead and vapid fools you describe do not have the power to require anything from us. Unless you join them.
#6 by Carl on October 13, 2011 - 9:22 pm
I hope not to join too soon.
#7 by Kay Camden on October 13, 2011 - 11:09 am
I’m yet again intrigued by your point of view. I agree that your seeing them gives them power they don’t deserve, but I don’t know how you can’t stop seeing them now that you already do.
#8 by Carl on October 13, 2011 - 9:29 pm
Yes -Some are better at hiding from it, I suppose.