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It was the smoke off his cigar  he thought  that affected his throat

                                                                                               

it felt thick  viscous
like the beginning of a cold or accumulated phlegm needing explusion(but it wasnt)

unknown to him

it was a larva inserted into the tobacco

awakened  hesitantly  by the explosion of heat off the struck match

then affirmatively by the scorch of flame and smouldering ash 

it followed the exit it could

as expected

along the cooler draft and corridor of smoke

out the end he inhaled through

which he quaffed into his mouth throat and lungs

the stubborn larva  uninitiated  unknowing  played the malingering cards it was dealt

swirled  freefell  into its throat and latched by hooks onto its thin sides

it slithered deeper down its gullet

mesmerised by a near warm throbbing

calling to its inherent Nature 

a carotid artery

a fucking superhighway into ones brain

 

or as the larva might think

if it ever drew a thought

                                         Home to the seedbed   the Hearth

the matriculating loam to pupate in    hermaphroditically spawn   reproducing thousands

the thickness in his throat would soon be the least of his troubles 

when his eyes began to twitch and weep and his mental confusion disabled any attempt

he might have made to help himself

he was a dead man walking

                                                  thats why he was infected

an Intelligence science project   
                                                  TOP SECRET

unknown anywhere outside a slim cadre of dice-rolling scientists whose silence and patriotism were well-compensated

Terrorism had enemies

some of its enemies were homegrown                                                                              

                                                              those who tried publicly and vociferously

to take the card of Terrorism out of the hands of others who were wildly entrenched in its necessity

and well-provided for by political Corporatism that lovingly fingered the Constitution and publicly hailed
its ardent long-lived Democratic process
 

then patiently waited for the cameras and reporters to depart
before peals of laughter and backslapping wracked their puny bodies

it was Hoodwink

ascendent to an artform of selfish black arts
                                                                       (douchebags/cunts)

2246,  Sunday,  19  4. 15

1920,  Wednesday,  22  4. 15