|
Written by Michael Anzuoni
|
You will walk into a bar and see everyone in ivory and smelling like the salt of the earth too bad the earth is flat and not spread across the universe. You know what I'm saying? You can read me like mimes, like mines put on your eyelids set to go off in a timer that's tame, too little too late to sit and just go "Hey, my heart beats and I breathe. I am more than a machine." Too late! I said it's too late! Go out into the fields, see the slaves towing and pulling and oxen being put on shrines, the pedestals, oh they are so beautiful and polished, the slaves building them so precise and then the oxen defile them, the cycle of life. The farmhouse is cute, little little by little it's built, stones stepping up slaves and slaves slashing down the ropes and roots.
Here we go, to the rivers. Wash off your clothes. You will wash of your clothes, put them back on and feel even dirtier. The river is mud! There is a little kid building blocks. It's 1948, three years since the World ended. What are you going to do? He stacks up rocks higher and higher and damns the mud, but he is overwhelmed! It's 1984 and an eye is being sewed shut into your mouth. You have no mouth but you can see. Now do you know how the Pyramids fell?
Well, we're almost done. It's hilarious. It really is. The movies on Main Street are all pornography the only food you can buy is rubber and the newspapers are thrown into the fire. Look at the librarian, she carries a gun with care and stares like the meanest. Look here, Priest! Look here fellow, your church bells are gallows you see?
Don't you see?
Trackback(0)
 |
TrackBack URI for this entry