Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Capture the Crown

The throne is empty
There are no kings

The land is fallow
There are no fields

The river is dry
There are no fish

The sun is fading
There is no sky

Across the land a subtle hush behind the screaming, tweeting cries:

ssshhh

Beneath the ground a hungering god awakens:

hhhsss

They will write that it was a natural disaster, and of course, it is. What's more natural than a god? What's more unnatural than a human?
When the rabbits finally finish their tales about the imaginary and extinct human race, they will say that nature rules blindly, with the same casual apathy towards justice we humans display towards the injustice of the genocide of the dinosaurs.

We write that it was a natural disaster, and of course, it is. A fallen stargod's wanderer summoned down from the heavens to end a lizard race too stupid to build roads into the sky and too giant to fit inside a harddrive, and they say it was just an ordinary asteroid.

But you and I know better. The hungering god sleeps and awakens with cyclical regularity; Coyote and The Trickster take a holiday together, knowing neither has anything on that one's needs. Odin sighs while Krsna demurs; Ahriman studies while Mellifleur hedges; and the Oldest Old One dreams still of coldness, coldness, cold.


"Where were you this morning?"

"I... what?"

"This morning. I woke up and you weren't there."

"Oh, that. I was outside, on the deck, in my rocking chair."

"But you weren't there when I came down."

"Oh, that. I was outside, on the dock, looking at the boat. It's beached. The water's low."

"Why'd you go down there?"

"I heard something. Had to get to the lowest point to hear it."

"Oh? That again?"

"No, it was different this time. It's not like the countdown. This is louder."

She shakes her head. "I love you, even if you are crazy."

"It's getting louder all the time. It's not in my head. It's not just the veils that dance in the breeze anymore. They're coming."

She tilts her head.

"Or maybe it's just one of them. I don't really know. No one tells me anything."

"Well, do you still want to eat?"

We eat.


When is the most opportune time to do the laundry when the world is about to end? You know you need clean clothes. You know you need to have something ready to wear. It's going to be a long time before you have that nice fabric softener smell all around you. You're going to smell like old sweat, hunger and piss. Homeless, but without the alcoholism and the meth addiction, and you smell like a human unwilling to compromise with nature. Maybe just don't wear any clothes. Become like a goat, smell like a goat. Wild, fresh, tangy. Roll in the grass, and you're good. So, I guess the answer is there is no opportune time to do the laundry. The goal is to goat.


I know what you're wondering.

You're wondering how I know about this.

I know what you're really wondering.

Why you should care.

I know what you want to know.

Who I really am.

I know what you know.

None of us knows the other.

I know what you want.

You want the truth, clean and clear and concise.

I know what you came here for.

But it has already gone.


The running red
The laughing stock
The loser the loner the lover
dreamers all, dreamers one
we have no other sleeping
when you shut down
turning off the crown
there is no one home
the dreams are ours
we dream one another
awakened—

we hunger

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