A seer sees
a series of seas
he's seen since he seated him
self at the seeing table to season
seared seaweed ceaselessly since he
insisted his sister said certain significant
systems seemed sinister to her. After asking her
Alice automatically answered at an astronomically
advanced abstraction an affecting aesthetic he'd never
even heard about before. Really he said
Yes you yammer and yap and yawn all the time while I
warn you we're wasting away here when we're wanted
for weeding out whatever was in our way. The manner
in which he stared at her could have filled a silver plate
up to the rim with warm drool from the moon.
Ew she said, why are you looking at me like that
Ew she said, why are you looking at me like that
I want to eat you he whispered. You mean to make
a meal of me she seethed. That is exactly what I mean
he snicker hissed. She got undressed and splayed her
what he paid for. An intimate relation with another
member of the human family.
Wham blam the trick is dead
Get an executioner if you want
to get ahead. Beat a batch of butter
balling in the bed. Raise em praise em
might not phase em but they'll graduate
to hate well fed, well said, until we're all
quite dead, go ahead, tell you what, why don't
you instead, do a good deed, and take the lead
I think it can be agreed, what we feed consumes
us and may assume our identities too
us and may assume our identities too
So please realize we have eaten our father
and passed him on as waste for the process
why yes he would be elated to find he was fated
to play the next role in his decomposition to help
fund raise the growth of the land which the hand
understands was handed hand in hand on a grand
scale to apprehend or wrap your head around
before you were found down town drowned
in a crown and worn upside down with you
bloodless and hung up from the ground
held up dry and bound whether to
wither away altogether or wander
on the wind one must wonder
so the seer shook his head
and took himself to bed
to rid his mind of the
reddening sight and
what did he find in
the middle of the
night but a dream
of a red river running
through his head whispering
after all nothing true may be said.
Happy birthday Dad. I miss you
ReplyDeleteafter all these years something
fierce. 28 years means no time
at all, you are still here in my heart
and growing through our son—
your grandson, Zane—
who is waking up
from his nap now.
He'll be 14 mos.
next week.
Love,
Shaun