Not Canon Fodder & Jar

Not Canon Fodder

We were well before reading, and becoming one with Man; alike the unslaughtered lamb
That lay at the greedy aesthete’s feet, succumbing, prettily, pettily, before heedlessly pioneering
Profiteering with the profligate shitstorm kicking in from the West. The socio-historic nipping and
Tucking to keep the malign aligned in line, conjugating a loss and terminal continuance in this
World of boiled worms. We allowed ourselves to saw; and beholden, what wonders! An ocean of
Thunderous crashes as the waves turned to ashes and all was dissolved in salt. An extinguished
Existence besought, before we could possibly contemplate the other; love, and all that entails it:
Severin and Wanda’s relation, and Nietzsche’s abstention fraughted by rejection in the twilight of the
Idolater’s secret frolicking and feasting fireside. - We were Christian in our morality, unflinching,
Before we read those books, before we allowed our ideas, and their predecessors, to penetrate through;
Dragging our brain, looking for drowned souls and answers among the dust and decay of lovelorn
Yesterdays. We builded an empire of made-up accordances; they projections of our well wishes;
An ideal unsustainable unless reskinned bi-monthly; grafting varied scales and gills on old pores;
Meet the world on waking, its ugly truth, the same as when Pygmalion made his statue to menstruate.
A vampiric notion overcomes me, the urge and want for staleness, we are but wont of entropy; to lie
Basking in ennui, we! Torpor, meat me, by the bridge, let’s go dancing, come!
Embedded, so deadly the love of all encompass, so beautiful, powerful, shackling, manacling, all, all, all;
The pantheistic love; between two intrinsic, ah love! - Books; the Kamasutra’s alien philosophies and
Weltanschauungs bending my mind until it fractions; in directions it doesn’t want to go.
The boomerang mystery, love; Egalité, love. The absence of animosity in intimacy surprised me;
You’re my chemotherapy. Stuck to you by a string of dribble; smudge my skin, rub it in. Who’s to say
It’s not doable? The canonical disarray!


Jar

Jar of eye on table whitened wood
The eye singed with Bunsen burner
Marching orders delivered by rood
Forgot the char jaw on skull yellow
Tea-stained.

A hobnailed vision visitation pre
The world’s deflating eye blink
In the jar of vinegar looking out
Milk unbottled flows down cabinets
Crockery cuckold.

Fire stoked with rotting coals of eyes
Eye embers staring glowing pink
Empyrean jar full of pickled eye
Staring vacant out alight, focuses
A subbituminous eye sinking to bottom jar.