Its nice to be on a voyage

while others are locked and loaded   a voyage has to be at sea

You see

                    not really  

because if we were canned goods  --  and sometimes I wonder  IF    --  the Ingredients on our labels would begin with WATER                                                      

                                                      the various articles Ive read suggest we are 57 to 65% WATER   adult males vs. average adults (their reportage)

Ive even considered dropping my voyage terminology  inclined to insert    

                                                                                                                   a flight

                                                                                                  our atomic Oxygen count reveals

it makes up 65 to 67% of our bodys mass   while our Hydrogen atoms beat back all comers

although the only real comers we enjoy are Oxygen and Carbon   the remaining anatomic elements  if we cheat  --  and sometimes I wonder  IF    --  make up one single percent

our Hydrogen atoms exist at 4.7*10 to-the-power-of 27   which restated numerically is 47

followed by 26 zeroes of our approximated 7 followed by 27 zeroes   bodily atoms

 

with those numbers at our backs we begin sounding like a big deal  dont we 

                                                                                              Im not being facetious either

when I remark we are Big Deals

We are 

            though I find it nearly desperate when one person for religious reasons cuts off the head

of another human being and reduces its big living deal

to 7000000000000000000000000000 atoms of dead

canned goods

cheating

Religion

7                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                     0                                                                                                                                                         0                                                                                                                                                     0                                                                                                                                                       0                                                                                                                                                        0                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                            0                                                                                                                                                      0                                                                                                                                                      0                                                                                                                                                  0                                                                                                                                                       0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                    0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                     0                                                                                                                                                   0                                                                                                                                                  0

0

stoked  shining galaxies inside us

                                                         murdered

                                                                          

sometimes I wonder  IF    were better than that

remember  I did say “nearly desperate"

2244,  Saturday,  31  1. 15 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Ill get up Ill get up . . . 

                                      his words  tone  lacked substance

someone in another room would mistake them for snoring

Ill get up

                in just a minute

                                                                                                                  just a minute

Ill get up

               I will . . .

their cat didnt rouse or slip an eye to peek when the soft alarm sounded the third time after she
had eerily  seemingly  motionlessly  silenced it by its snooze button

the three of them were very tired

                               in just a minute  he warned  he wasnt going anywhere  just yet  his head was laden  heavy  with coloured dreams and black sleep and other dreams throwing shadows against queer walls and long longer across fields and lawns  on shrubs and the skirt and curtain of a peaceful twittering forest 

 

he hadnt a consciousness to even wonder where she might be in her head or the cat in his  though their breathing sounded as if they had both fallen asleep again

                                                                              he hung there by the slimmest

of margins  at a razors edge between the sheer precipices of moody wakefulness    and all its jealousies and greed
and deepening sleep  alluring  drowsy   like amber syrup oozing  and its trapped fantastic and phantasmagorical drug-addled apparitions  the giants and sylphs

lepers and vampyres

                                   he struggled between unconsciousness and consciousness  manacled and freed   incarcerated or serrated into bleeding pieces

                                                 the peaceful   and the riotous      
there was no wonder in him why alcohol and other drugs permeated his culture  or any cultures    defying the Religious Freaks and Howls who damned those who used them

                           . . . Ill get up in a minute

he was up before ten ticks tocked

talk about timing   or

coffee
French Press

it wasnt going to make itself

she wasnt going to make it

the cat didnt have an opposable thumb

and even if he did he wasnt going to make it either

the servitude of caffiend

its black African smell

its grit from the bottom of the cup between their teeth

the day ensuing

the promise

of sex

he won the bet fair and square and if there was any reason to wake this morning and embrace the day there wasnt a better reason than getting up for the coloured sex to come

Ill get up

he wasnt the only thing that got up

 

he was not alone

the marmalade of sleep  the curd of dreams   dripped away   and the automaton making French Press was in full gear

                                                   it ran nearly without him even having to open an eye

AM,  Friday,  30  1. 15

1424,  Saturday,  31  1. 15