Incendiary

Damn the stupid – for they are greedy fuckers lacking grace or art. There are holes in my mind where I tried to burn them out with poisoned liquor. One day it all got out of hand; I set the whole place on fire. I lit the inferno but others supplied the fuel. I saw them later, sifting through the ashes for trophies. Their laughter crackled in the air as they picked over my memories with hands as black as murder. The fireman told me that alcohol and drugs were common contributing factors in most fires. I am incendiary it seems – high as a kite – ready to light up and burn down the sky.

.

Worms

this story for the most part

is lodged in my throat

I could choke on my words

if I could just bring them up

some people make me sick

because they’re unkind

those green fingered monkeys

who plant worms in my mind

they tie knots in my guts

and bring tears to my eyes

they dissect my entrails

with their blunted knives

to divine terrible truths

and more terrible lies

.

Sabotage

I tried to polish the connection again, but there was grit in my unction and it got into the mechanism. Now it won’t run with the smooth action that I was used to. Still, I rubbed and rubbed until I’d scoured its surfaces with tiny little scratches and its once smooth finish was dull and coarse to the touch. 

I don’t know what I was thinking. That was no way to treat something so precious. Perhaps I was trying to pare it back – to reach beneath the skin to a previous state of being. Whatever the reason the device is now scarred forever and it grinds where once it glided. It still works, I’m sure of that, but it will never be the thing of beauty that it once was. With a little effort I believe can still make the connection work – if I can ever forgive my little act of sabotage.

.