Monday, 8 February 2010

electrocuted duck up.

The whip crack away, whip crack away, give me crack at the whip, go away.
A year passes and what seems familiar is still frozen in time,
like a duck struck by lighting,
now stuck to the lake, feet underwater, neck points at the sun. That’s me. Electrocuted duck.

Lady with the big orange hair still working the till at the drugstore. Never smiling.
Giant puffy fingers that once held a thousand hot dog buns.
Pink lipstick clashing with her flame red hair and sweaty skin.
How I’ve missed her.

Wolf-hound sleeping lion, sabre toothed tiger, grow-grow-grow, mountain dog; beast of B.C.
Eat me.
Eat his cancer.

As if easy.
Feed his cancer to the dog.
Take it out with the weeks waste. Dustbin death.
No more beer talk, mid-tears, how long will he last?
Medication, hospitals, chemotherapy hells kitchen.
Despair. Scared to wake.
To admit it’s true, that I too am like you.
Another sarcastic, cynical, afraid, arrogant, insecure, mad hatter. Wearing my face down.

Nicotine soldiers carrying caffeine guns, can I join the army now mom?
O cigarette, cigarette, where for art thou?
Give me thy habit, thy darkest hour, thy acid flower.
Screaming angels hover, my head, ticking bomb,
a drunk wasp slowly dying under the sun,
I try to stand, pushing the wall, all hands on deck.

Try. As I might. I do.
The mountains, those cocaine covered hill-tops; they own my brain. Ask the mountains what I’m thinking, cause I don’t know.
Gave up emotion to them. So ask them.

All that remains here is my shell, a swimming seahorses womb,
numb underwater love,
sinking shadow,
life sings from the window but all I hear is the faint howling from the wolf on the mountain eating my brain,
feeding its young my emotion.

My every thought and pain.
Soon enough I’ll walk on water,
angels stop screaming,
drunk wasp finds its pollen and I’ll hear life sing again.

For now; firefly’s circle around the cremated heap of dusty ashes I once called hope.
Leap of life.
Cure this man.
Please help me.
A designated fan.

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