Jesse S. Mitchell
Messianic hooligans threading through the streets, butchered planets on their minds, snow-blind and drifting up like incense smoke, heavenward, leaving dark tracks long behind.
Fire angels in-swooping, so close you can smell their ashy breath smoldering, blowing holes of steam all encompassing around.
A demon, I am a demon, a demon here to poison anything, anything that moves, crawls, breathes, lives.
Super-charged Brooks Brothers super-viruses cover over everything in great thick clouds, tall sleek glass buildings with the rotten pox, traffic drives through the open portals in space, leaving without a trace.
Frozen seas careen over the surface of the Earth, melting and thawing and cracking apart as they near the heat.
May we reign over this forever. Forever ever. May we reign forever.
Out of Hokkaido Square, they spill out, all zombie-eyed in the dead-red glare of crystal mornings, breaking singly in the fire, singed and scorched. Charred fingertips leaving dirty smeared traces over everything, fumbling brass key rings and stumbling foot steps.
The lights flash. The icebergs bobbing, cast long-lost shadows down.
Made of bones, rattling bones and sinews of steel, made of indestructible threads and strings, we go indestructible around destroying destructible things.
Styrofoam Elvis-cups resurrect broken in the crumpled down snow, magic drifts that shine piled up,
On the right side of ice, the cracks extent down for feet, we bleed through the chasms like illuminated vapours, tall boots kicking and stomping through the streets.
And in the backrooms, the neophytes and nascent hirsute boys will try in vain to seek out and find their short-lived relief with black-teeth and newly-minted-lesbian girls with red-ripe tattoos on their thighs, twisted all around, coiled together. You never know how we feel about a thing until we say we do and there will be princes of the air in the air and royalty abounds and praise-singers of the slow movements of things. Mephistophelian dreams that dance in our heads, the thoughts droop down like leaves from the Yggdrasil tree, entwined and wincing.
And heaven forbid
And heaven forbid, it grows and grows…
May we reign this way forever, forever ever, may we reign here forever.
Bankrupt. Broken and breaking. Hands cold out reaching.
Imbecile Yen-Yuan-Dollar bill, strips the skin off the palm, burns the flesh away down to the skeletal remains, brick by brick we are tumbling down.
Plastic transparency maps of the United States of America projected on the walls like jail cell doors, let this be a lesson to us. Pull back far enough and the picture becomes clear enough, let this be a lesson to us. And repeat and repeat and repeat until we go pushing, sliding through the cracks and gaps and bend-back hinges, feral floods of icy thawing slush rushing through the halls. You don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this. We don’t deserve this. The worst words ever uttered were most likely spoke like this. Two hands in front of our faces like this. Two sobbing eyes like this. But I have a plan, a tengu-torture-fist going through the paper walls and grabbing it in the throat in the midst of this. Reaching back from all of this.
Everywhere you look, everywhere you cast your eyes, someone is busy hammering the Masada pegs in the board. Last-stand-reflections in every window, every mirror, every broken shard of glass. End of the world apocalypse steam escapes in blasts from vents underfoot, the fog obscures everything, condensation condenses and what can evaporate leeches off in huge pieces.
May we reign warm here forever, forever ever, may we reign here forever.
But we all live in yesterday, we all love yesteryear, we all live in grey, making little movments soft and slow, making handrail footprint-pathways through this snow. Billion billion blinking lights over head, stars or traffic beacons, advertizements, dead-headed signposts covered sleeping in a kind of hoarfrost and as we approach them, they respond by creaking, moving, casting their own shadows over ours with so little light left, it seems a shame to let any obscure any but the effect is charming, dashing, as we move under our own strenght slouching onward, slouching further toward Gomorrah, the Slough of Despond, Gehenna, brick wall, the end.
May we forever reign, may we forever, ever. May we forever reign over this.