Fire and Quill..

Like Riding A Bike

The human mind is a treacherous thing, constantly lulling you into that ole faith emotional trench, that all to familiar groove..thing is unknown to you, well frankly your all ready there..been there along time now jack how does it feel?. The thought that well yes this is your life but is it, is it really?. This mind that haunts the quiet time between traffic or insesent chatter of your work colleagues having an implausible amount of fun about you like cackling hens about a new cock. Hey now lets not get to ahead of ourselves...lets get back on track, that good ole beaten track.

So here i sit, drinking scotch, whiskey if you will, why whiskey you say? well i hate the stuff...guess its good enough to get me mean an good with words then why not turn it towards the keyboard again hey? yeah why not.

So why cant i write anything, whats the break down, why the breakdown in communication, the synapse not firing boy, you know what we call that in the army, frontier soldier meat fest, bout the only thing your good for boy, aint shooting no lead then get to the line and charge for king George an country boy, throw yourself at those damn heathen bastards.

So here i sit,stuck in the mental mire, holding a stinking tattered flag. A tattered fucking flag, cant make out the writing or the logo, its long been forgotten, infact the point of carrying this damn flag was beaten out of me a long time ago, truth be told i guess i just kinda like the feeling of the thing. Weight, weight, weighing me down,... so sleepy its so heavy,

"GET UP YOU MAGGOT FUCK!"





Christian guilt again calling my name, thy shalt honor your father and mother , shalt shalt not kill. Thou shalt not covert, thou shalt not steal, thou shalt carry that fucking flag as long as i say so boy so stop your sniffling an climb that bastard hill, come on you can make it up to the mound of sorrow.

"OFFER YOURSELF ON THE ALTER OF ART DAMN YOU!".

Got sick of hearing that. Suffer for your art, yeah i'll suffer alright....but suffer what, is there actually suffering involved and if so did i miss that class. I feel nothing, the new force field works, bargain hunt on QVC.
Art is where the heart is, plastic furniture, close circuit TV feeling the evil eye, Fatima you see, do you see? hmm no protection will be found no sanctuary for the not desired. Truth, fact, fiction .

Seasonal blues like son house sitting tree stumps sit, just sit...heel boy, hush your mouth, and heel.

AGENT B