Sunday, April 11, 2010

839. THE SWEETEST ANIMAL EVER

THE SWEETEST
ANIMAL EVER
And all things are blocked off :
my veins are clogged, arteries filled,
capillaries jammed, organs wasted.
No different than any of the rest, I
will die saying fulsome prayers to an
animal God. Filled with loathing, one of
us, anyway - either this God for me and
my kind, or me for whatever that Word represents.
Disgusting Kingdom, spectacle of lies, mis-represented
natural states, bastard men taking advantage, cheaters and
killers, mother-fucking soldier-types stealing from Mankind,
even in the name of this God, missionary nit-pickers knowing
it all. I stand aside from everything I see. Lost in grace, I be me.
-
The only true capital is Creativity; that
intuitive longing for place and time, that
far palace of the sun, that fair Kingdom, set
on a distant hill. High atop a distant hillside, I am
secure and confident (and distant too) - and I
only know that what will do is the making of
a system of my own, for that of another man
will never do.

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