YOU (A TIRADE)

I’m all ears… Everybody’s got one; we’ve all got one… Feel free to share…I’m just a sponge
For your ego to saturate.

Let loose the bowels of your head

Make yourself comfortable, become Expansive

Let no noise escape this room without your personalized stamp all over it
Let no man
Be turned away from your insensitive fingerprints
Which Forge Blemishes in my consciousness.

You have become just another in a long line of
Dog-shit filled footprints
Trampled across the collective brain.

Be yourself…
And don’t forget to talk non-stop
And don’t forget to blabber on and on
About NOTHING
Spilling the void
Of gelatin and fog
That you call
a
“mind”
Over my numb ears.

I love it (can’t get enough)

Can’t you tell by the
Expression
On my face?

Or can you
Even see my face
Past the hall of mirrors
That reflects only
You
To your scaled eyes.

No matter…

I’ll just
Slather on
My highest grade
Bullshit blocker
And you’ll be nullified
To a mere
Mosquito-small, white-noise
That I’ll set
In the backwoods
Of my mind

Pardon me
Pardon you
In your
Defecation of character

Please tell about
Every last
Butt
You’ve sniffed
Run down
Every last minute
Of your
Long, depressing
Days
On this
Rotten plankton

And how you’ve
Worked in sorrow
And
Joylessly played
Back and forth
Throughout
The spew
Of your
Filthy
Headghetto
Spraying the juice
Of noxious ignorance
Onto my pure cloth
Of
Nakedness.

Are you trying to sell me a car?
Are you practicing writing an autobiography?

(I’m a willing host for you,
I know, being
The bottom feeder
That I am)

Your hands are
Plucking out
My heartstrings
One by one
And burying them
Under a ton of
Rancid meat

This is the meat of the TRUE YOU
Made hard as cement

Don’t mind me.
Flies are buzzing
Burrowing into your
Bag-of-skin.
I watch this
Full of sweet soul magic
Burned by the glow
From within.

Within the box (containing a box) packed with only me, I am motionless and silent. And waiting for nothing. I breathe in the separate parts and exhale a gust of cedar. I braise your memory in the clean blood of my lamb, holding our friendship cup to swollen lips. Tracing the corrupted lines of action… I talk with your mouth full. There you are: a conduit of crumpled effort made flesh conjuring a full house.

Here are we: It’s easy to frisk with ciphers when you snarl with pignuts. Members crossed members, with grievous smiles, becoming flavors that curl the tongue with sweetness. I am thinking about not thinking.

Plain Jane spills over your lips. I am submerged in the boiling water around me… self-contained (except when begging). Downing a slick stick, I’m ugly; I sit on the ridge, dew on the lily, refreshed, in a floriated fever. I remembered myself wobbling on a crippled tripod… scrubbrushed raw red. I raise a toast to your next heart attack… may your tottering, flimsy metal legs buckle!

I go-cart to market. I am sold by shouters. I am chopped into easily shipped bits and repackaged by the lowest bidders: Still and silent.

And waiting for nothing.

I dragged my duck through the mud as I prodded the active fold.
Accused, I tucked my ego in a drain hole and I laughed myself old.
All that I’ve lived, I must now relearn
because, now, even this tripod cannot give me balance.

Over I go, posted face down. I lay here in wonder. How oddly I’ve grown!

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