trample old memories, leaving dead on
arrival images for the caretaker... who,
like everyone else, only arrives when
the last resort has been refused and a
mental lapse in judgement ensues... it
is a reckoning they want with everyone
on speed dial, forgetting those who have
appeared in the book of names and the
book of numbers and in the book of
forgetfulness that is printed every decade
regardless of who answers the phone... it
is a time of answers without questions
and he careful laying out of knowledge
that is deceitful in its appearance but
likeable in what it has to offer... a soul
for a soul, a demon for a demon, and a
gift for a reward that punishes those who
cannot remember... we are a society of
dimwits who walk the night like prostitutes
looking for the morning's strangers that
come to clean up the decadence before the
first morning prayer at church... a noble
request that always falls on the deaf to
administer since they never seem to
listen to what anyone has to say anymore.
3 September 2022
No comments:
Post a Comment