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    Sweven

    Twelfth & Thirteenth

    by , 11-16-2024 at 04:25 AM (48 Views)
    12th

    Great Gathering
    Thousands of fringe, feather, soft quilled leather, greet a great gathering. Entry is by bridge or by beam. Cameras can not cross. I wait... then booms thunderous hell. Room by room the gathering explodes. Screams. Smoke. Suffering. As if possessed, leap the stream. Scale the wall. Attempt rescue from above... too late. Drop from roof to roof. "I've found the man of my dreams..." a song croons over the chaos. Drop once more. Feet find concrete. Rise. "Dr. Lecter," I whisper politely to he, standing. He nods. I turn, run, but am undone by a heap of wilted, limp carrots. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh till it stings. Through destruction, death, and love struck things.

    Blind and Dumb
    World is blue and moonless. She is lost in the shadow of a mouse. Where is her savior when prayers are blinded silent screams? God is blind, deaf, and dumb it seems.

    Night and Nephew
    River, a slip of smoked glass. Hills, waves of moon kissed blooms. Fields, ribs and rows laid bare and bold. Trees, bent ent-like things a-slumber under quilts of stars. Tread slow. Tread light. Don't break the beauty of this night. Then hisses bus. Nephew weeps. He is cast out from the ride. We two alone start the long walk home. The world is insomniac screams.

    13

    A Muse
    Film festival lacks festivity. All rejoice it's jolting end. Surge out of the shell and into a limbo hell where busses are shut and un-numbered. Trapped? In a way. But out of the way we find secret slender trails. The refused find their muse in the body of she, bloomed.

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