2 October 2011

The Sun King

Sun-King

Any shade of day the pumpkin seeded Sun King shines dragon’s breath on the parchment theatre of life and its conflated asymmetry of being. There’s a billion pieces of monkey puzzle melting into the asphalt beneath a giant orange ball of gas. Does gas keep you up at night? – There are salts that deliver great belching reminders of the recent repast. Dandy lions replete in sartorial splendor feast on buttercups and daisy chains on the African plains and sing bawdy limericks – too ribald to quote here. The sun sure is hot, but not as hot as the ladies who parade semi clad up and down yo yo avenues in the hope of catching the eyes of young matadors already blinded from previous adventures in Pamplona – that’s in Spain – on the plain. Bull frogs tell tall tales from little green islands and geckos interrogate flies with inquisitorial intensity – you must listen carefully to questions because they contain answers.

There are war dogs torturing stray cats to ascertain the position of fictitious plots of sand where hobos dream of big rock cocaine mountains. Any tide of night you can hear them howl and screech in a language only lunatics comprehend because only lunatics see the moon queen as their mother. By night or day the hipsters recline in the shade – impartial observers to the insane dance of the sugar plum cough drops that fall from heaven like pennies from leather spittoons. Weathered gauchos play serenades on Chinese mandarins; their fingers sticky and kumquat stained. Roy Rogers is flogging a dead horse; The Lone Ranger is flogging Tonto – ‘it’s for his own good’ he lisps through his forked tongue. People come in different sizes; some are never big enough to admit when they are wrong; others are never brave enough to admit that they are right.

The brave relax and float upstream, they know that you have to be here now – not be there then. You have to learn to be free, it’s never gifted you. Cereal boxes contain trinkets and cereal; nothing is for nothing – everything costs a little more. In the upside down where cats chase dogs and neighbours are loved – there is a fountain that pours out jelly beans to the rotund and cheerful children of all the nations. The snakes there play flutes for hypnotized men who sway to and fro in hashish induced rapture and chocolate soldiers with plastic guns melt slowly under the warm gaze of the Sun King.

5 comments:

  1. Sorry for the error, it should be

    If I ever could describe this world or mental state of postapocalyptic rapture I have experienced through your cinematically breathtaking rush of visions, is the feeling of deep connection to everything, that splashes like a warm wave into me, and the wonder, and the thirst for more head-spinning rides through the roller coaster of your profoundly intelligent and luxuriously imaginative outburst of hidden knowledge and exuberant ideas gathered in colors and tossed like confetti to explode in the soul of the sleepy urban nursery of men too scared to dream

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  2. This is soooo cleverly written and humorous, yet at the same time so full of wisdom. Bravo, John. You've done it yet again!

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  3. Thank you so much Lolita and Rayvn - I did enjoy writing this and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it.

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  4. that was really moving, what beautiful words.

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