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FEAR EATS SOUL




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there's a light over at the frankenstein's place

The waitress looks like David Gilmore. TV: 'George Clooney is in Sudan protesting against violence' Yeah right , the guy says at the next table. Breaking news, ay? 'Twelve children shot dead in Palestine'. So my kind of kind of news, innit? As if. When’s football on? Another bloke, late 50s, gelled hair, checkered shirt put on by wife: I was alone at home till half past three - missuz was at a corpse's viewing. Neat, innit? First bloke: Yeah right... I bet she was having fun somewhere else. Stage 4: ANGER
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go and ride a thousand days, my clear-eyed messengers, scour all points of the compass and find me a glimpse of iridescence for shining guidance into the unknown on the day that I die
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on this day today, I performed all the rites in all the places of rituals, to be able to let go of her, and with her my so recently acquired hope, and my daughter’s hopes. it hurts to the bone to relinquish her sheer exquisiteness, and all that we might become. but you see, the reptile brain is but a blind predator, so I must drink of this black river and my darker tears until the night fills me completely, until the sun can rise in me one day. not now. there is much darkness to drink still. so I ate from the black berries at the altar of farewells, and stole the only, the sweetest kiss. her smile hid her eyes and she said,  I knew . I turned and went away, as all tomorrows faded into a liquid golden shadow against the summer's end sunset and the darkening green hills. and as I leaned my screaming head against the mossy wall, the village idiot walked past me and said, bon voyage . indeed. both back into our solitudes. back in black with the ghost that I know how to love...
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