Off
the track, the clean track that is so regularly beaten by horse's hooves and
paved over by pliant, flat-footed razor blades that criminal gunmen can
possibly return to or just walk with me. My men are combing the woods for
difficult times in famine. I tell them to go on and break faith with grace so
that one day beauty will be trapped within a family for five generations of
crusaders with filled-in minds. The Bishop is a burden to cross paths with once
in a sacred lifestyle. Sir, I talk to God or at least the strange and
frightening voices that fill his space. It's all just gathering wood really,
for the five fire.
What
is there to say about the lady with short hair? She has a kindness betrayed by
her own listening eyes that kill to hunt and pretend to be good mornings and
drinks all round. I told the truth about her and became the very epitome of
crossbows from just the burbling optimism in my belly. You eagles really are
all the same, just American actors and singers with weak necks and real life
cloths from fictional saddlebags. You'll live like a poor thing and do as I
tell you, as they tell you. The dish water will follow the residual politics
for the rest of our hawking days. The thunder pleads as we actualise.
Here,
boy! Hurry! Hurry! This is the left side and the stones should be so lucky.
Have a gentle one, a gentile waiting in worry. Try not to be so damn selective
with scheduling conflicts next time. I remain the struck, the stricken, the
fleshy bit in between the tall and the manic archway. Enchanters. Misconstrue.
The. Blustered. Instrument. I clunk with decisiveness and drunken intemperance.
We'll birth the nearest accountant and all his wickedness. Revenge makes for a
terrible old age in a broken and rejected system. How darkly the wolf dissolves
into a divorced half-life. Always together, we shall stumble in our own vows
and prepare for the sickening flash of a scorpion's tail.
Since
the plague there are more monobrows than bodyguards can speak of with
coffee-stained tongues and bloody-mindedness. One day we will do up the bowties
that life consistently hires out to Big Tobacco! We will even go as far as to
open up in the name of the lessons in lame excuses and powerful architecture
that the tiny villages have come to expect. The widow keeps telling me to crack
open the back and forth with funny looks and malted vinegar but it's part of
the whorish condition and the touchdown is far too brief. You see that now.
Confound
good faith with captured mandibles. Find shelter and take a good long look at
yourself as I relay these exact words just as he recited each letter and
punctuation point: well as now as you ever can be in the mouth of a vouchsafe.
Take your time, make you. Hull the heartbeat, chuck the heart throb.
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