critique of immense fear

location:environment home alone: wishing i was a farmer


Immense; critique of cripping fear
trama of a drama, or is it vice versa;
carressed in the clumsy embrace of a curious lover
drunk on cheap whiskey and expensive vodka
cozy morning of paralysis, puking and purring;
where i am galled by the gore
we inflict on each other for fun, or perhaps entertainments sake
i wonder at, preciesely,
how many murders on stage or screen i have been a whitness to,
how much pigs blood in close up, makes for a tasty parody of mortality?
in the belly of the beast,
that is where the infant of opportunity can become enjoyment
but the ego of the mind resumes the role
of manager over earthly pleasure or spirit pains
pointedly as pimples pearce the peace of a fair complexion,
perfect beauty broken
independant islands crop up as ideas,
membrains of memory pulse with electricity
switches on and off, gases intermingle floating
with glass balloons thru a landscape of emotion
silence stroked by wild wind to make the sea like a storm or a sheet?
give voice to the self professed shade;
lounge singer or burlesque comedienne
each moment packed with nervous energy,
abounded in spasms of twitch-skratch.
peeling back of the multi-layered character flaws
sandwiched between truths
to know a deep pit in the backyard
where we dump our rubbish and shame
a papaya tree is the only thing
that appears to grow from there,
last i saw it is almost at ground level.
how sad does something have to be before it gets funny?
humour creeps like maggots out of the morbid.
space is eternal, held and supported by time,
striving for calm is a simple acknowledgement
of the vastness within the vessel.