[2] Collective Strangedarity

 One :

The strangers wandered over the unfenced boundary comfortable in the knowledge that one distant day when the elders died they would be heirs.

They wore no labels or name tags highlighting their authority but carried significance airs.

I was not significant, my crystallized sandwiches saved me and I began experimenting.

Rice bubbles with sugar, weetbix with butter, vegemite and jam, and I savoured the taste of last nights meal between my teeth.

I could sustain hunger by sucking my teeth and gums, it was eternal nourishment as long as I never ventured within my cavities.

Why should I worry, apparently I would grow up, get bigger and learn stuff whilst my teeth fell out three times.

There was much time to grow, decay and grow again.

Things were before me and I had the world at my fingertips but I could not feel.

There was no memory of how I arrived here, there was nothing more of feeling passed from hand to hand other than me struggling within a daymare.

There was no food of substance, it was a meagre existance metered at intervals to tame me. I only ate it because I could when it was dispersed to me as a mouse in a cell would.

Things were before me and I had the world at my fingertips but I could not feel. 

A rope tied me and I felt wound and bound, manouvered and manipulated, entranced and mesmerised.

Tethered by authority of puppet people, cluttered within lost souls gathering their overcoats

A rope of hope fed me not as an umbical cord to a cunt but as wings of desperation flapping aimlessly.

I had no idea of anything hidden within trousers or skirts - I wore shorts that dangled about my skinny legs and refused to remain upright about my waist. 

Who were these parents who entered my yard, who were these people who wore shoes that were in one piece and pranced with an authority of gods.

I remember no baptism nor childhood nor pleasure nor pain nor innocence nor a cuddle nor a hug.

What was this thing that drove them all as passengers in a car that had no steering wheel and no one qualified to navigate.

They were all so proud to be. And they were being. 

But the only qualifications neccessary were an ability to were long pants and collect me from things.

There was no school for grown ups they were ensconsed within roles of responsibility.

 I had no ground stable enough to stand upon, I was a child awaiting the discretion of adults.

It was time for my wings to be clipped.

Two : 

I had not applied significance of my little stature to the event, I was worn with dusty steps and slithering reptiles and monitors who patrolled my attendance in crystallized corridors.

The winding tracks chanelled between trees seemed to be able to guide me as I walked towards a destination that never appeared. 

Tempting the world I foraged forward not as a rodent but as a mouse.

Things happened in my awareness and I was placid and succumbed by the comfort of the teet.

I would go with this feeling, there was no world outside me and I cuddled every morsel of comfort.

Having no teeth of soul I could not understand why I should be any less than they.

But I waited and watched my future fade away.

How could I control this descent into another waste basket that I never bought and seemed to determine my excretions that were never collected in my diary.

But I do remember this as an exasperating journey bonded by rules that were neither rectificantane or surmised as an idolation.

There must be a god,  something bigger than this corridor in which I was set to travel but I have no purpose other than to wander and obey the rules.

It occured so steathily no one noticed and there were not many left to care, their lives were unravelling.

No longer would I trek hardened dirt paths uphill and downhill hoping to see any human life.

Life was here before I had a choice.

It presented, it overpowered, it enveloped, it clustered and drowned, it signified why I was.

And so it was that I was deemed only of significance as long as I was insignificant.

But there was a master joy that I relished. I was a child set loose in an adult world.

There had been a lifetime of eight years adrift in safety and complacency and identity.

The strangers purposely wandering with disrespectful aplomb were my parents.

 

 

 

Thoughwaddy

 I was scared at school,

Masters and subjects did not rest well with me,

On leaving class I was overwhelmed with the magnificence of all I did not know.

I bathed within the glow of discovery.

Arithmetic and writing was considered a skill

Little did I recognise that none was better.

Nought did I realise that I was not me.

But a product of an accounting machine that required simplicity.

 

My education and indocrination cost someone money

But according to accounting discipline I was a negative

A ledger entry that weighed with more detriment than bonus

And numbered with little recourse for dispute.

 

Fat kids in the school yard had a belly and some dumb belief in compensating for their disability.

They were feared and revered for their magnosity.

Alas it was only their feeding and breathing that awed me

But I wondered where they would shit that great pile of food where it could not be smelt.

If I were ever smart enough to murder myself

The administrator would call me to account as an anomally in the statistics

Even after death I am in debt

I will pay even though I enjoy but I am reluctant to even wet my pants.

 

I am disabled enough to recognize my secrets and accept that

There are only three secrets :

Those you do not tell others, those you do not tell yourself

And the other is the secret.

 

Every man must go through hell to reach paradise

But I must resist the urge to strike him down

For he is merely an echo and strives to reduce my dignity

I am only a performer in a circus and he is the clown.

 

There are other reasons for failure and they are absolute traits of my animal.

Whatever happens you will react on purpose,

You will act according to your error of judgement,

And you will react out of remorse for your actions because you are stupid.

Being careful of yourself can lead to just being.

Judge a fellow man by the effect he has on his friends 

We are what we do not throw away, baggage weighs the soul

And when in torment and seeking revenge, remember to dig two graves.

The two most masculine words are 'generous breasts'

And god created man and tempted him with a demon and a choice

Favouring knowledge over wisdom he sealed his fate

By discovering the joys of the cunt that bore him.

 

When the days of creation were all done and twilight loomed

No one except nature had any further idea for one more thing

The growing sphere of nothing required a design team

To address the gap between a man's bag and his balls.

And god fills it with sperm as soft and glistening as a liquid pearl jam

But it is so wasted with a clenched fist and imagination.

So I walk with my dog and his nose

Following his smell of the past and I am lonely.

But he smells the past not the pain for it is a memory

He should not go there, memory is sufficient and it has a smell.

His hell is a life devoid of god, a random calvalcade of choices

The noise in the background of silence is the sound of screaming souls in hell.

But I take risks, it is my distinguisng trait of identity

What I do today paves the way to what I do tomorrow

And I remember being a one of millions of sperm squirming to survive

For what ?

 

When your heart breaks, my world does not hear but feels and keeps ringing

 And your thoughts are as useless as operating a health spa at Chernobyl

Dreams lead to thoughwaddy and cannot be redeemed but nutured

They will screech and then thump and then rattle.

My memory is an interptetation but not a fact

Alcoholics have more hair because they do not have time to worry

Trying to understand a naked woman is like taking apart a clock.

There are three types of woman and I do not know what they are.

 

Every civilization is founded on a crime

War is a trick of denial we perform when not wanting to die immediately

It may be that we should not speak

Unless we can improve silence.

 

So we seek solace with dissention but weighed with disability

Of the soul of the heart of the esssence,

But there is no one pedalling a one wheeled towards doom except me

And I follow a cycle of pumping bums full of uncatorizable sewerage.

But the animal I am insists on a cuddle

I cannot trust the cuddler but I feel better for the comfort

All |I have is esconsed in a package between my legs

But I revel with the belief that divorce from reality is the only trial that a finding of guilt sets me free.

We are what we feel not what we ought to say.