09/09/2013 - THE ISLE, THE PLAZA

the isle, the plaza, the destructive tendency, the general property damage, the voluminous poetry written about said damage, the whistles orchestrated around such poetry, the demonstration of poetry whistles on the street, the reclamation of poetry whistles into popular culture, the demonstration of how poetry whistle culture can be channelled into backwater politics, the backwater politicians whistling the demise of their parties, the backwater politicians whistling the demise of their careers, the desperate attempt at citing original poetry in order to save some element of the decaying party, the hours spent caking plaster onto the rotting bones of the inherent policies, the alteration of the chemical compound of the plaster in order to make it more resistant to rebellious vaginal discharges, the countrywide rejection of women who would discharge such things, the women being fed into execution camps for little more than this disgusting kneejerk behaviour, the lack of women to impregnate, the faltering of the species, the mannish world going down on itself, the world trying desperately to sprout female alternatives before homosexuality becomes court-ordered, the appeal to test new theories in playing god, the complex that comes with finding that god isn't really anything more than a man with the right tools, the tools becoming weapons, the weapons becoming propaganda, the propaganda becoming threats, the threats being melted in fat fryers, the fish and chip shops creating massive eruptions in the tectonic plates, the shifting of continents, the drift towards deeper water, the inevitable submergence halfway into soggy conditions, the sogginess turning to soppiness, the men turning into more romantic, sensitive versions of themselves, the remaining god technology turning them into female versions of themselves, the female versions shattering the remaining technology with vaginal discharges, the righteous uprising, the usurper's rage, the pretenders to the queen's genitalia, the war of the sexes, the battle to end genitalia, the building of hope verandas, the decimation of said verandas, the final act of gender equality slipping on its own loving juices, the desperate search for mops to clean the juices up, the discovery of divine tapestries long since forgotten, the messages on those tapestries, the stains covering those messages, the inspiration drawn from those stains, the return of loving juices, the forgiveness shared all round, the reestablishment of man and womankind, the grand resetting, the brickwork becomes important again, the imaginative expansions of rubble and other remains, the plaza, the isle again

                And the mercy wasn't ever good enough. And the childishness wasn't nearly accurate enough to meet our expectations. And the books would tumble off the shelves or at least they used to until you neatened up the bow and shined the black man's dome. It didn't hurt him but I'm pretty such it hurt you. And the populace piped down for the adjutant to make his final appraisal and he wasn't kind. And he said so many things about your cartridges and your unethical methods and your dodgy attitude to police situations. And you dried up deftly in your sleep.