Sunday, May 13

The Ouroboros Project #1 - The Words

{So, just quickly, I've decided to write a poem a day for as long as possible. Let's see how it goes. I think I'll call this The Ouroboros Project 

What are your thoughts on this one? I kind of went outside of myself for it.}

The Words

I’ve spent my entire adult life studying this poetry. David’s fortitude. Judah’s evocation. The saintly beast and his words of wonderment. In fact, there’s nobody of my generation more versed in the intricacies, nuances and wavering hammer of air-cutting-word or whatever you want to label the working parts as; the bleeding words if you will. Whatever – no matter - it’s an outrage.

First the restrictive ropes tightening – tightening. And now they say I am useless and not fit enough to work. What right do they have? What right? My bleeding words. My degenerate career? What is degenerate? What is degeneracy?

Where am I to go? I am useless? I have an understanding of generations of verse, the meaning and cadence of thousands of years of erring human history, the smattering of expression left like congealed blood, gone black on the pages of ages. The pages of the bloody ages! The blackest or the brightest, I know, and have read of the days of all, the sorrow, the toil, the sunsets of the forgotten – their symbolism all but decoded and laid bare.

And it is not only the scholars of prose, such as myself; the whole faculty has been ousted. Some trumped up upstart has swaggered in, his shiny buttons glinting in the slanted sunlight sculpting its way through the flotsam of the air; his smirk the nail in the denigratory coffin as his minions clear out papers before the bally dust had its time to settle on the creased corners; the shovel of ash and dirt upon the coffin’s oblique façade, newly buried, never forgotten. The words, oh words

Yes, they shut the university down. It’s boarded up now and stands gaunt in the streetlights of this newly darkened age. I mean, they shut the university down. And now what will happen to me, mine and my? They say we’re going to camps of some kind.

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