Gnawing serenely on the wheel of life Leaves arching morosely over our exposed heads, wheezing gently Navigating carefully on terrain dotted with bloodied, gaping maws Threatening to spill the arcane secrets of untold millennia spent loafing under screaming skies
Divine procreation, unreadable, untranslatable, and gasping at light from the stars
Effulgent wetness creeping up on the copper gates to the arena. The overwhelming stench of evaporated alcohol left abandoned in cups for the miasma to sniff at. Sheer wonder. Child-like amazement. Emeralds howling with pent-up rage in the rafters, terror-stricken at the sudden onrush of white on white, myriad sheets of empty oblivion waging their war on the churning sleep of rusting spires
Smoke blanketing all transmissions. A few scragglers huddle into each other, hiding their eyes in awe at what they sense will come. Some attempt to communicate their surrender by loudly proclaiming undying loyalty to the unfurled clouds of id. Others wait timidly, bibles in back-pockets appearing now as so much straw
Revelations begin to rush in from the outside, melting the surface of the playing-field into aquatic blue liquid. Some people start frothing at the mouth, bleeding from ears that no longer hear. Others speak in strange tongues before diving in, never to reemerge.
A dark grey plucked bones from our madness, ageing us decades in the process
Perfidious spirits concealed in the distant thunder. Our hallucinations running desolate alleyways with emaciated rodents and optical larvae. The frenzy to learn new dances to win desire again. Commerce and labour croak their mutual forgiveness at each other amidst the looting. Money hides in fear behind black fishnets left to spy alone on wounded flesh wandering between rows of cold machinery. To traverse piles of rotting teeth laying in wait for unwary beasts to pass.
Brief flickerings return once more. Levees bray their gratitude at every recording surface imaginable
Peace perfumes our sweating, chases the marauding hordes of blue away at last. Flesh re-carved passion on the swollen purple flanks running frozen through the empty aisles of the urine-god then
Just as we all realize there is a stillness in each of us that is eternal and cannot die