distracted

                                                                                                                                       by a distant uncle

whose death cleaved him from his thoughts

eroded them

took him off his routine  salted sudden musings  resuscitated memories

which surprised himhe thought they disappeared 

     

then this wire bared  unsheathed  strangely copperish  sparks  an illuminates foreboding dark corners

  

filling them again with wet frothy life    an spirited colours

                                                                                                                       he was Shocked! they were still there

there for the coin the mere cost of his uncles life

he laughed uncomfortably

considering what play his death might arouse an in who     an when

death is often a seeping oil that catches people when they least expect it  comes to them unwary   breathing heavy

eyes bloodshot  unwashed

                                              Christ! Been lookin for you

gives you an unbearable bear hug

 

you werent that close but you knew them you shared with them things that perhaps only the two of you were privy

an their death leaves you holding the bag

whatever was in it for better or worse

you may laugh you may cry

or you may look over your shoulder for it creeping up on you

the finality of death is that its never final

it is very much like dominoes

not played by rules

1354,  Thursday Uncle Ed Thursday,  10  12. 15

while listenin to Sol Seppy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIj-DgbwWuQ

    

The place was packed with frauds and wannabe despots

Despots

No   Wannabe despots

Im not familiar

Bullies  Packed with blue air the shittiest kinds of tinderboxes waiting a curling flame to enrage engulf them spewing lies palatable only to the ignorant in the vacuum where they thrive

Where reason or rationality is despised and unnecessary

They will not have their thinskinned balloons poked pricked or cajoled  Within  contained within is the stink and miasma of curdled shit

Arent you a little   harsh

No  Callin a spade a spadeI wouldnt want to serve their most ardent misinformedHA deformed desires

How did you end up there

I didnt end up I went I went to challenge them  Affirm  make them realise their processes and stances will be battled

Not very safe or smart

Its never safe  Was never meant to be safe  But fascists love their fascism  they think

They lack the nous to really think or be otherwise  And where the fault lies  parents friends pale acquaintances exposure indoctrination  I doubt even they could say or attest

Unless money

Then fascist thugs

   

Then the more enthusiastic I am

1433,  Saturday,  5  12. 15

written /Desiderii Marginis playing behind  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2flX2WJrUSw

he was haunted

he was younghe didnt know any better

he took counsel of his unclesthey should have

Fear

it dictatesinforms

is fallacious

                                but not that he knew

older now he saw

he saw phantomsthe dead   in the tops of trees inside the leaves when the wind blew

he heard them whispering in prairie grassestheir destructed bodies hinted in the moving shadows an swalewhispered from the wakes on trembling ponds and lakes

screaming fullthroated from river dams an falling raw falls smashing on the rocks at their feet

hauntedtheir memories smoking out of bodycavities from their broken porcelain skulls

an drifting up the nightwalls of alleys crawling on buildings faces

 

smearedgrotesquely slithering down his bedroom wallshiding his face in his armsshuttering his eyes with his hands

haunted

they didnt tell him        that

but then they fought something existential

he foughtbecause he was put up to itEither  Or 

  

coerced by his country

1403,  Saturday,  5 12. 15

listening to Desiderii Marginis  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOVxOqaZkG8