Enough is Enough!
A crack in the ant farm discombobulates the matrix, now tilted, now losing speed.
Cyclops sits at the tip of a chanting pinecone, his archaic inner eye scratched in the emergency.
A local physician, loyal to the mountain’s daughter, signs a prescription in cursive font elegant as a Hellenistic vase.
Enough is enough!
Prepare the shapeshifting wand now a ladder.
Freakshow/Peepshow climb yourself down
into the ruins & rubble of the elementary school.
Freakshow/Peepshow tie your shoelaces to a ball & chain.
Throw yourself into the pit of echoes.
Into the echoes of a child’s musical instrument!
Wash & clean the iron door, bolted shut, shielding the facsimile
of your heart, shuddering as the earth quakes.
The elementary school bombed a second time.
Prepare the shapeshifting wand now a falling star.
A falling star remembers Noah gazing into a deep azure sky.
A falling star remembers flash-floods of swirling froth & foam
in diagonal rivers of Gorgon-like rain.
A falling star remembers uncertainty is a certainty & pencils once broken
can never be forgotten.
Prepare the shapeshifting wand now a bird of prey
howling into spinal columns like renegade DNA.
Today is the day of renegade beauty!
A day Freakshow/Peepshow never imagined!
A day of what returns like a boomerang.
In hubris a nemesis engraved upon the karmic wheel.
To shriek! To thrash antediluvian wings!
Today the ill-gained cosmetics you pocketed
curse your indistinct visage in the ruined beauty of
a Freakshow/Peepshow profit & plunder retrospective.
The ever perambulatory William Blake walks to
a bridge ignoring the Museum of Ruined Beauty’s
monumental exhibition.
In the Temple of Binoculars a bull pulls a chain collapsing pillars,
perpindicular & askew.
Tin foil rhinoceros & lions cast shadows.
Cyclops, catching his breath beneath slabs of marble,
warning of the mind & psyche collectively disintegrating.
Who & Where & When?
Little Bo Peep, who rhymes with sheep, has lost her rights to the common grounds.
The ever perambulatory William Blake brings her an apple.
Freakshow/Peepshow stirs a plastic spoon.
Opening the bathroom cabinet testing powders, creams & fragrant sprays.
Thinking he looks like Beethoven on a motorcycle.
The family crouches behind a half-demolished wall.
If they return the instant coffee will be gone.
Neolithic hunting parties materialize in the aether,
alive in stone, in bone broth & sound,
asleep for eons in the depths of a pulsating chamber.
Drink of the Original Thought lashing vines & knotting veins.
Drink of the First Principle inscribing lengths of wand-like wood.
Prepare the shapeshifting wand now a whirlwind,
no taller than a heron, speaking in shamanic fits
of rage & grief.
Ash gone white in shamanic fits of shame & disbelief.
& Chanting the ravens’ lucid dreamtime deeply into the cauldron.
& Swirling blood-red poetry casting spells of haunted sound.
What was that? I don’t know. Did you see the hummingbird?
In your psychic prison, prisoner Freakshow/Peepshow,
the poison of your fingertips touches the graveyard of your face.
Your silhouette staining The Garden Walls of Babylon shall fade as you become
Dorian Gray.
Your silhouette staining The Garden Wall of Golgotha shall fade as you manipulate
a pinhole camera. As you sip sucrose-fructose.
As you recalibrate the diabolical.
Vanish! Banished!
Enough is enough!
A crack in the ant farm discombobulates the matrix, now tilted, now losing speed.
Cyclops sits at the tip of a chanting pinecone, his archaic inner eye scratched in the crisis.
A local physician, loyal to the mountain’s daughter, signs a prescription in cursive font elegant as a Hellenistic vase.
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