I was asked to become a guardian
Down low, down low, in a bottom of mud.
Too late, I said,
Coughing and excusing myself;
Toxicity had taken control
Of my asthma, uncontrollably
Letting my lungs flank
Sides of this yellow pole.
I smiled nicely
At the man who said something,
But to him, I wasn’t listening,
I was to busy snoring.
Excuse me, I said,
Under my breath
And a fly came and landed
Above my head,
So I moved on again, up high, up high.
Tag: toxicity
Sinister Dish (day 306)
Sweet sunsets and mangled reminders of the only stages you’ve ever stepped on that collapsed under your pressure and exploded into your dreams of the last days on earth.
Brought to you by the evanescence, the ultra cool but oh so very hot glow that recorded the passing of time with little whispers that spoke to you like a hard boiled egg or a clinking glass of scotch [on the rocks].
Deeper, deeper I desired as I swayed to the easy listening of the devil’s music that crunched my ear drums like the vibrating stool I now sit on.
Perhaps it’s the toxicity of the room that invites me to pray upon my victim with relentless desires only my dilated pupils can explain away as if I was some mute teenager sneaking out the back door a gunnysack full of father’s liquor.
Did I ever run away from that devious sight I had designed from the first time that I set a foot on your precious neck?
I’ve lost two dollars to the little man we’ve befriended for bets that I’ve drunkenly took and never intended to see through till the end like the lot would have hoped I would have.
Yet, like the flame throwing dummies burnt up in the all to familiar smoke of the madness, I too have found my glory box hidden deep beneath my sock drawer with my fifty dollar bills where no man shall ever speak of.
I salute you, tiny panther, I salute your devilish glare as you circle your pray and wait for their moment of weakness and slaughter them in a feast of all that has been and shall ever come to pass.
This is good.
This feeds both our souls.
This proves that the only thing that has ever rolled from the base of this lone tree that stands in our way was the rupture of happiness.
And forever I shall witness the spiderwebs slowly creep further into the corners of my eyes until one day they too shall bear witness to the struggling undergrowth that shall be sworn to secrecy with the stomping foots of the passing time.
Dare to lay down this sinister dish and feed upon my gravely voice and dried up blood spots.
