Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Journal 44 - Trains Lions and Elephants

Trains blow from out of the mouth of the lion
torturing neighborhoods and terrifying children
with their lumbering heavy iron roar. The
universe may be shaped like the oval of the
soap bar or the cylinder of the condom – or it
may be flat like a chocolate chip cookie, what
an analogy for typical galaxies. Dark matter eludes
us; inference is the sandy bottom of hard-core
objective science. When will the public confidence in
science slip away as it did for religion? Will the
State be next? I would like to sit in the sun
and open up like a tulip or a sunflower, raise my
head and unfold myself until everyone saw the
inside-out beauty it's claimed we all contain. Milk
drips down the side of my mouth and snuggles in
my terrorist beard. Would you like some molasses
with that? Mole-asses – such an adolescent and
delectable word. Yes I'll have molasses with my
tired sour milk. Along with the milk my belly
bulges like the late lazy Buddah. Perhaps this means
wisdom is creeping my way. A sedentary lifestyle
is a gambit and gimmick – fat drowns the voice of the
muse. Only the fat would disagree. That's not true.
The city inebriated cabals around the dry country would
certainly disagree. Wisdom is after all disagreeing
with whatever your conversational partner says. Or
is that intelligence? No, it's just disagreeableness.
It's just the exterminator on a hot June day spending
too much time under houses. How many potential
serial killers release themselves by becoming exterminators?
Maybe just the prototype. The sound of the lion in
the distance train reverberates like a kitten in the tree -
I'll be outside where I can raise my head, smile and pee.
I sometimes like to walk around my house and yard
and urinate in strategic places, marking my fancy
territory. Why not? We're animals too I hear. Of
course it's true as far as truth may go. I don't see elephants
tearing a hole in the ozone layer. Nor do I see antelope
creating statues of Rodin or Poor Juila.


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