divine intermission
strangely, in the clutches of victoriana and smoldering coals, the new grate throwing heat into the center of the room, the tone shifted. a slide toward antagonizing, upon reception of a distended joke, nobody was laughing. the argument had rounded on itself, inquisitive blurs of movement and cigarette smoke, as though a theatrical backdrop.
the crowd talked in slurred fonts, spilling things in type. casual talk, always the dawn of an argument, began with tellings of leisurely infatuations. removal of person was crucial, allow for specifics but distance one’s self from the inflammation of direction. the direction of inflammation, perhaps.
playful admonishment followed, taking gunshot turns at those who dreamed of over-exercised teenagers in crisp white institutional dresses.
a perversion is a dirty secret. a perversion is an acceptable fantasy. only if they remain.
the numbers held firm and culpable, more had joined us, we were eight and full of silent influence. the promises held a recognition, pointers to what we had read earlier. wordy resolutions blossomed, an easy escape, sourcing fact and judgment, the organic referrals to something we all knew, and then god entered the room from the mouth up.
February 12, 2008 at 5:03 pm
They spread their imperfections like gouramis in an aquarium, feeling for others’ defects, so that they won’t feel so alone in iniquity. Nobody’s perfect, don’t you agree, but dwelling in negativity is madness, so I reckon.
February 13, 2008 at 4:17 pm
the numbers held firm and culpable, more had joined us, we were eight and full of silent influence.
damnit. this was entirely too dexterous. if i had read this in something you had published, that sentence would’ve been underlined, the page dog-eared, and the book stashed under my pillow to take out in the dead of night, a sullen and sleepless companion.