A collection of photos and poems interacting with each other in ways both mysterious and obvious.
Duck into the secular church
of imminent oblivion;
drink deep,
drown the Blue Devil,
play the pleasure trick,
and watch your ingenuity blur.
If you can.
Cash in,
bleed out,
retreat into the
grandiose unclarity of your
uniqueness,
while you chase the love
unconditional
that you’ll never know.
Skull slang radiation
through a four flush
brain mist,
cool blue mosaic
of bone schematics.
Soul cockpit
of a twittering machine,
made visible,
sports the question:
what the fuck am I
doing here?
Closed:
quiet respite
without demands,
propped seatside down
on a marble floor,
the night’s memory mopped clean,
and free from the weight
of butted burdens;
resting
with the good intentions
of another day.
A silent narrative
underlies her humanness;
her every action
an overflow of flimsy meaning,
every response
choked with blather and woes.
No escape of disenchantment
from the vaporous mist
of her consumption.
Lacking spirit
and amazement,
she closes her eyes
and shaves her head
to ward of perplexity.
With weary eyebrows
and caterpillar lashes
she paints herself
for war against
not enough;
to feel alive,
to truly matter,
yet is cumbered
in the cheerless gravity
of discontent
that never fades away.
Bear leans over
and tells the porcelain dolls
a dirty joke.
Mythic perfection of
their rigid cheeks,
painted blush,
radiates the fragile aura of love;
their giggles disguise
their ruffled discomfort.
Self-possessed, Baldy sez:
"put a lid on it Teddy,
we are to be cherished
and require protection,
not titillation."
