Down On It

4.1.09

It's too hard to sleep, time is taking sides with the enemy. My hair is itching from the parasite air, manically I scrape at my unseen scalp, riveting it with clawmarks from a loveless hand. The clock keeps moving, the cycle, the unbearable cycle keeps turning. Inspiration turns to anger, the reality of innocence is a dark secret, consumed by the waters of the poison flood.. I thought I was getting by then the economic road ran recovery style into the brick planet where we all lived with our impatience. Come on, you know me, I needed something to get me out of the style. I needed to escape on the boat, car, toilet to the sun, staring down at the serene indifference. I turned into the quiet diner and lit the jukebox like a bomb. A contemplative careening melody jeered out of the sideways ancient speakers, cracking and crumbling sonically like verbal abuse-- a life at the hands of the serpent whip. C'mon honey, you know what I like, this place went out of order decades ago. Hand me down your world, your sons, your broken daughters. They're all beautiful in their dirty, dusk march. Passing the torch to the next unlucky sonofabitch like it's a timebomb that could blow any second. Yes, I'll have everything on the menu. Fast forward but watch me later, in the doorway I'm standing like a meaningless pillar, holding something virtueless which is weighing heavy on the mind. Chruch bells are ringing across the water, picking up vibrations the birds scatter like the sun rays beating out behind the clouds. Lucifer is a saint, dontcha know? I said, as I stumbled down a ways, take your money, your economy, your family, your doctor and put them on the tab. The dance floor opened as no one entered, no one came at all. I danced alone under the dust ridden lights, the blinking diner door lights burnt out and busted. Crying, screaming, the sound of the music embedding its unspeakable mark in my brain as no one came out to see the madness. Communication breakdown episode, new-age mark up, step, step, step get me outta here. No place left to turn, the eyes are looking, emotions have been gutted like the mines, back and forth as the swinging pendulum drives nails into the foundation. The rock hard stepsister winces at the light, the colors abhorrently flashing, all the streets have become sad alleys for sad people to walk. Walk me out to the invisible portal, break my body and scatter the disgusting ashes in a disgusting place such as your backyard or sanctuary body. I'm coming for the kill, making marks in the skin like a sickos perfect touch. I love the scary words, the simple fears, the uncertain hunt for the beast. Wrap it around me in a soft skin coat of all things, of all the skin ever stretched over mystic bones. I'm in this for the long haul.