Wednesday, June 13


Here’s something to smile about
Heroic is the day as the sun shineth through greying meadows where pixies gaily frolic with bulging pockets, softened tussock giving way underfoot, avalanche down
The pixies and their suits and their ties and their fictitious flip charts; they are heroes of the newly blackened soil
And why are the fat kids crying? Oh, it’s because they don’t have enough presents. They want more. They always want more 
Through their dirt, skinny kids with flies on their faces laugh and smile; their tears are dust, their pockets are their guts
The pixies are with them, pockets bulging, prancing, smiling, suit tails flaring; their hideous smiles are black, dripping and black like the earth
And then butterflies pierce the murk of the sky through through the sun that shinethOh and the soft bodies of the skinny children that stand in their way
So they explode
They explode for some time
They explode forever
Red mist, red mist and its dripping red rainbow glowing through the now sunny haze
It floats, serenely, like a slow-motion deluge, down, avalanche, down
The pixies faces are red nowsmiles intactlooking skyward, then downward; skyward, then downward; grinning sickly, sweetly, so deeply my stomach empties
Pockets ever bulging, ever bulging, ever bulging, ever bulging - ever bulging. Mine bulge too, of course
The fat kids stand with umbrella dripping red. They're, of course, still crying; they want more presents, they need more presents, they never have enough presents, someone get them some presents. For the love of god, the presents, the presents
Deluge now becomes sea, the rainbow gone, the pixies gone
The red sea rises around our ankles; ever higher, ever higher, smothering the black earth

No comments: