MASK & MIRROR
In the valley of shadowless death - heaven is where the sun shines
Watch the clip/video - Mask & Mirror (below/bottom).
In the trenches of treachery, we’re on the firing line.
Wounded, awake, gassed & mangled. Terror. Tangled.
Sunday school soldiers in their dystopian distancing.
In a predetermined dissolution constituted in whole and in part
by the numbness I feel from my waist down. Severed somewhere,
I remain … semi-conscious in this drop of despair.
Rising to the occasion …
Fucked with a side of fries and a fear of flight. Steadfast in my station.
Static erratic. Thirsty. Thermal imaging; a dimming light. Wuthering white.
Flashing frames of distinction from another time, when nothing mattered
but that which could be tracked by the sick and the sublime.
Blinking, thinking ...
I lost my virginity to a Filipino girl. Babysitter. Nymphomania.
She was 18 and I was 13. She raped me. It was amazing.
Holding my ground on this mucky mound. Reminiscent.
Embracing my battlefield like a real man - reciprocal. Resisting. Reinstated.
Contemptuous, restrained. Recollections returning. Contained.
Television cartoons, Sugar Frosted Flakes, Crispy Critters, Looney Tunes.
Wow, what? A dishwashing liquid? Kidding right? … ‘you’re soaking in it’.
Strobic homophobic. Islamophobic. Claustrophobic.
Guess it doesn’t matter now. Liking boys, liquid laudanum - liquor’s quicker.
It’s Friday and you know what that means right? Ale & tail. Another reckless relapse.
If they found out? I’d be arrested anyway. Whatever.
The departure unsettling yet serine, pristine. A posthumous Pulitzer.
A calamity calm with perfect perks … visions of veracity. Volume.
Volcanos, hurricanes and flooded fortuna fortunate. Cinema face.
Voodoo children - masks and mirrors, on all soul’s night.
Trick or treat, take a seat. Wash your feet. Eat your meat.
Thoughtful thinking in a sad state of sinking. Carmelita dancing.
Adolescence. Intoxication. Trepidation. Fornication. Get down from there!
Lamenting in my lowest common denomination - contamination.
That loyal drift, defying the laws of physics in a lateral lift.
The mature male paradigm in a primordial slime.
Over-rated gravity, depravity. Teenage rebellion.
So I’m pretending to have wings for my arms, and lift off in the air.
Flying to places which the clouds never see
Too close to the deserts of sand.
Where a thousand mirages, the shepherds of lies,
force me to land and take a disguise.
Forever forced - scammed. Duped and damned. Lines of lineage. Divorced.
Connecting dots of deliverance from my safe departure to this perilous destination.
Good needs bad. Dark needs light, left needs right, life …
I shan’t give up without a fight.
Epilogue
And in the valley of shadowless death
They pray for thunderclouds and rain
But to the multitude who stand in the rain.
Heaven is where the sun shines.
.
.
