Deal (prose)

 Deal


I walked into the men's room behind you and watched with my hands in my pockets and a small cold smile on my face how you began washing your hands and face, checking the black shades around your eyes, and frowning slightly at the natural ones. And then you bit your lips once and turned around to face me with a genial smile.
"Business," you said.
I nodded and pulled a twenty out of my pocket, looking at it, at you, at it... and held it out to you. You took it gingerly.
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
You hesitated and cocked a brow at me, but produced a tiny folded paper from the frontpocket of your sweater and placed it next to the sink. I opened it carefully and squinted at the thin, glittering crust, and threw you a smile.
"I was told it would be complicated with you. But you're actually the easiest of my customers so far." You leaned against your sink and crossed your arms. I smirked and placed the tiny pad on my tongue.
"Why would I be complicated?" I had to grin.
You shrugged. It was haughty, elegant. I dug into my pocket again and found a big one. Tugged it out and held it out to you, casually, between two fingers. You raised your brows.
"I don't have that much on me, man. Sorry."
I chuckled.
"That's for the complications." I slipped the hundred into your frontpocket, and you recoiled slightly, with a frown that helped the acid melt in my mouth and flush downwards, pull me forward, and swirl around in my arms and legs as yellow and green spirals that screwed out of my skin towards you, tapping your chest and arms ...
"Hey. What the fuck are you doing?"
"Dealing. Business." I was probably on you then, pushing you against a grimy, chipped black wall on a grimy, chipped white heater, and holding you to something you never agreed to. What I knew then was that I was feeding on a field of sour strawberry jam that looked like a sea and the log I was straddling was hot and soft, the trees groaned around us and quicksilver iron snaked into my mouth. I followed its trail with my tongue and took a dive into its narrow well, with a screaming rushing in my ears that cleared them for the musical dripping that followed. Like the crystal sobs of a nymph in a cave. I found her and watched her squirm in my hands. There were toxic icicles that sliced into my arms and neck, leaving prickly sensations and energy for me. Softleaved branches brushed through my hair. I sucked on a peach that tasted of air, salt, and metal. Mostly air, very hot wind, and a wisp of wet mist, just before a bird pecked at my lips. My legs ran from me and started dancing in irregular circles in front of me, while soft warm roots pinned the rest of me to a ridged trunk. It was hard and cold. My front was in the sunlight, it burned a little. My dancing legs jerked back and forth, closer to me. I was sitting. What else, without legs? Haha... Grapes on my mouth. Couldn't break them, too soft. A lurching tingle radiated from the point of pressure, there, light shifted, light blue, you sang, a whistle, but only sobs of some subdued, sweet kind, and your eyes were black shades, closed. There were stains on your throat, wide exposed, thrown back, and they moved. They flowed like little snakes. You felt absorbed, but I had a feeling of having wronged you.
"Mornahunned."
"Uh... huh?"
"More... hundred. More, worth, more."
You looked at me, glassy-eyed.
"Than. Ahundred." I gave up.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the radiator. You kissed me.

Be Space (poem)

Be Space


Beauty lies in chaos, like stars
are something wild, and dangerous, vast gas
... particles, rays, waves ...
and we're just slugs from caves.
To shine brightly, you only need to die.
Like a real star explode into a searing glow,
bright enough to leave ice cold, but burn all carbon.
Into light, evaporate.
Pass floating rocks, with ore inlaid.
Melt them, have them gravitate
into the mist that you create.

Were a human this far out, with you out here in space,
just come to look, like humans are, they would lose their face,
it would simply flake off in your gaze,
your radioactive, beautiful rays.
But even knowing this, many would come if they could.
There are so many of you that you cannot be counted,
and many as deadly as you, to them, but they would.
Raw energy tastes powerful, and you are an explosion
that lasts for millennia, a universe corrosion
in glinting chaos of matter.

Maybe it will even out, in a few more trillion years
- which can't be counted without time, but then, who really cares?
Now we're in a storm of power, in a shining, vast, cold shower
continually under attack of light, piercing all on its long flight,
and it appeals to all my senses, I am very much inclined
to find it beautiful. For all its curious aesthetics, cruel beauty,
chaos, and power, rank high in my mind.

The Halls for Lone People, and a Smile

The worms who revel in the shades

have grown thick

again

It’s shady and misty

It feels like old paper

in rain

They writhe in slime again

smell of the foul pus

that they ooze

Vomit themselves through the new old shades

imposed as labyrinth walls

as facts, unyielding and straight

slammed into the mind, a bruise

in the mind

The new familiar halls

formed by these giant planes

void of window or gate

are gradually filled with

my oily swarms.

What I thought reality

wanes

And I know there must be sound!

And I know where it is.

Digging my hands

into my chest

my fingers touch ground

below the watery kiss

of my phased skin

They grip the best

most reassuring music there is

Standing forlorn in these halls

black, forever, swarming with worms,

insanity and bleak desperation

the emptiness of a vast closed space

is eased

by the substance of my flesh,

my blood and its storms,

intelligence’s grace,

my heart’s deviation.

And my mouth, then

is pleased.

More Obfuscation For You

I know that you know,

yet still there's an urge

to tell or to show

each single twist and surge

concerning what's inside and between.

And, giving in to it, I'm flowing out now;

transcending notions to tentatively reveal

the particles in mind and heart words normally conceal.

As usual, I fail

to do it spot on, pinpoint it --

I try, I work, to no avail.

Words well-crafted and anointed

hardly do it justice, the shining thing I feel.

But you know, I know you do, you never give me cause to doubt

the fondness and sincerity of softest rain, like foam,

brightly tingling charms on my flesh. Like ice. But warm.

Ich fasse zusammen: Heiliger Weltkrieg

Ich fasse zusammen: Heiliger Weltkrieg


Es ist noch nicht lange her, dass die Welt begann, unterzugehen.
Es begann mit Menschen, die mordeten, um für ihren Glauben zu stehen.

Es begann mit Feuer, und mit Feuer nahm es seinen Lauf.
Jeder Glaube zündete Funken, und die Flammen fraßen sich gegenseitig auf.
Sie machten in allen Staaten Station.
Sie rodeten jede Population.
Bald lagen nicht nur Häuser, sondern auch die Ordnung in Trümmern.
So fingen Einige damit an, sich nur um sich selbst zu kümmern.
Ich kämpfte nicht für Glauben, das hatte ich ihnen voraus.
Ich wartete nur, und die Hysteriker rotteten sich aus.

Mit dem neuen Frieden bereise ich nun die leeren Länder,
unter mir zwei Räder und auf dem Rücken die Fender.
Jetzt fahre ich auf die Brücke und bremse.
Unter mir fließt sie dunkel, die Themse.
Es gibt Dinge, die nie vergehen.
Der schmutzigste Fluss der Welt, und ich freue mich, ihn zu sehen.

Lunacy Looms Large [poem]

~~~

Lunacy Looms Large

There was a string of shadow
stretching along the border of my mind
as a landmark and checkpoint
for my thoughts roaming about.

It served as a warning, perhaps,
for stray fantasies to keep to these realms.
Those random roving rogues roaming
wreaking havoc in the space
between cell and cell
burn all synapses to hell.
Well.

I saw this frontier of shades,
it was intimidating and cool
immensely reassuring as well.
Only it flickered a little.
So I began to fear for this wall.
If I go nuts too much it will fall!

The way it looked, great but frail
made me wonder.
Could powerful mindshots bring it down?
Yonder sanity could be invaded
easily, easily. Smoothly, quickly.

There used to be a string of shade
dark and strong, but soon to fade
making room for dementia to deploy.
It shall struggle to stay sane,
but world of wit will wane.

~~~

- The Confused Insect

Bliss in 2007 [poem]

Strange blue wide screen
Wide range orange light beam
A tree that looks like Norma Jean
Horizon sews a golden gleam.

All the garden’s smells are green
But its look’s a gentler tone
Brownish in the thick air’s sheen
At this time of day alone
It is not so very clean
And it soothes you to the bone.

Believers’ distant metal chime
Hot the coals’ red adders’ shine
Easy thing to spend the time
To keep this glorious evening mine.

Could I just on any other day
Stare my boring life away
With a precious sight like this
It would be just. Just bliss.


- Contented Insect