A brief history of some of the infamous men…
…of this town
When the night unveils its shroud
To display the nudity of the day
I’ll tell you all about
The most infamous man of this town
Made of dust, cobwebs, and invective stream
That’s how artificial his background is
You wouldn’t dare to look him in the eyes
As they’re the black holes of the beast
Sayin’ one thing and doin’ another
Even if you observe him vis-à-vis
Tête-à-tête he’s not so bright
Havin’ in the legs, not in the head
Switchin’ his sides
Sayin’ one thing one day
And the next day
The same thing has the adverse dimension
Not even worth to mention
To anyone
Forgettable in the haze of unpredictability
Of his thoughts
Yet here’s a piece of advice
Straight from my heart
Don’t you ever make him frown
As he’ll retaliate for that
With the strength of his sword
Cuttin’ you in half
Till blood take over your place
With you non-existent, he could live
Peacefully in his self-made isolation
Made out of other people’s frustrations
Enragin’ him a lot
So, he’ll benefit
From any Spaniard’s company
Helpin’ him to rigidly state his point
Between the first and the last joint
*
To A. C.’s crowd
*
25 June 2021
***
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Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis5 days ago in Humans
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