Ah monster, I’ve found you again: alive alice and hungry. I embodied all characters around me: pop pulp, culture through a looking glass circus, I watch the dances play before me with their twisted features, small and large colors over the rainbow, and then I take on their faces, manners and places. We can step into someone’s very veins and get lost in another person for awhile. I seethe back to life, awakened like a frozen stone Vulcan waiting once again for the fires that burned before him inside the mind seeking night skies with moons falling. I am not one to be eaten lightly. I will rise from this stretcher, this carnaged plane. I scan the dead and try to hold their last breaths in my hands. I hear you, in the dark, your cries for fear of the earth’s large enough mouth to swallow you.
I opened my throat wide, wet from drinking in the moonshine and ran back into the forest for cover. The plagues are coming once again with oil as we drink, raping the shamans of our ages, genocide we watch and allow in countries of our brethren: each act of violence was leaving all of us to bleed, don’t you see that? I retch up the violence that sits outside of my very window, blood spills down the trees and sinks back into the earth. I am coughing up the venom that attacks the airwaves, the media living us a lie.
The sisters shifted me into creation making love to the air around her, weaving in between the breezes, she dances to remember who she is when the sky turns to light again. the ghosts in the hallway like to knock on my door with an impatient hand. We know you’re in there. Mentioning the dead always causes a morose silence and shifting eyes, fingers reach for something to entangle themselves with. We must muse out among the crowd and make resounding voices.
Unplug the machinery attached to you with strings, doll’s house living must no longer get blood pumping and molding out into something pre-processed and manicured to glint in the light just right, ah yes the shine of capitalism.