Listening to bubbles crackle foam in the bath, our ears perked up like children hearing birds sing for the first time, we lather lavender onto our tired bones until they turn purple, brittle and decay like glass ornaments shimmering on their way down from high branches of trees removed from roots severely and placed as a conversation piece in the dining hall of rich mansions, servants and butlers responsible for the dusting up of old medallions and trophies, a room full of them, beheaded deer and elk serving to mark man’s alleged dominion over all other creatures on this whirling sphere we call earth, we all inhabit the same atmosphere and our voices echo atoms of argent for one thousand centuries until we reached the black hole of our darkest desires for total annihilation and nuclear holocaust, like the denial of the ability for total self-destruction is anything other than people with jutting underbites and boils covering their skin avoiding mirrors like the plague, they smash them up for good luck in swamp land Louisiana due to belief in voodoo dolls and upside crucifix, the nails through the hands like gloves, and the blood runs freely through the streets, our fine citizens walk ankle deep, wonder where the nearest death occurred from where I am currently sitting, most likely right where I am when the bulldozers came to ruin this climate, our voodoo black pupil intent to harm others with their knowing who is causing it.
I will write poems using your eyelashes as quills, and boiled down heroin as ink. Then I will tattoo myself with everything I wish I had said in moments that will never adequately present themselves in a way I can understand.
The history around us, in the air, the legacies fought and killed to perpetuate, now lost in wisps of blue smoke like the final death throes of a crackling pine needle fire in the deep forest wilderness, the scorched earth of a blazed trail by lightning ignited fires and the horror of intermixed flames with rain, a hellish natural environment before the raccoons came up from the sulphur fumed gutters in utter confusion due to the sudden collective consciousness of the species, they know their boundaries and that cars are bad things, mechanisms of death, commanded by worse things, mechanisms, cogs in wheels of death, spinning through the molecules of a car accident with humans at fault and animals slaughtered needlessly beneath the rubber neck rims of these motorized creatures. To them, everything that moves must be alive. To us, we know better. We sadly shake our heads and use racial slurs in order to perpetuate an us vs them attitude for our fellow man. Do you think black and white pandas ridicule red pandas for their color and rarity?
We are so mislead.
I miss those moments of crackling beauty, the milky way in my hair, spinning around in slow rotation, our eyes full of dissociative fugue-states, space invasions with sunsets and beautiful fishermen comin in from months at sea, the pier and the yellow cliffs, breakable rock with strength of hands, yours truly, they point down to the lightly crashing ocean waves, minor collisions, the rocks hear are still jagged and plentiful, this sandy beach will take a long time to erode entirely, we sat in the middle of a horse shoe with the red neck showcase behind us, the boats anchored in this gentle bay rocking slightly with lazy attributed features and lethargic yawning spasms from the depths of the universe above, we heard it all with covered ears and gave in to the feelings of awe for every moment surrounding our heads like bullets speeding past in a war.