Key to Itself

A Chromed Leaf, Remixed

I am a human [gene], capable of doing [amazingly] terrible things.”
Woodheavy Brown, paraphrasing Homeboy AWOL, 2015

 key girl:
teeth blades
come out.
Need to nibble.

What’s behind
her fragile smile,
as she surveys culture
for new American psychos?

Blood as catalyst,
soaking popular art,
while axing questions
no one wants to answer:
Are we the new livestock?
Is there a too-much?
How do we close the gaps?

Instead, we’re watching the messengers
make sweet, harmful love to the messages
that contain glossy, gestalt-like perceptions
so as to elevate our organized destructions.

No place for a bland face,
until the branded, veiled eyes fail;
real eyes will peep from behind,
rejecting the eyeballs we half see.
When carpus becomes metacarpus,
all genetic humans get itchy little digits.
The real fingers that are Fingers
pointing to the canvas forms that grow
from out of the visibly painted flesh.

It’s the beautifully worn nether skins,
underneath the fragile-lipped girl’s
outermost posturing,
that my moistened teeth blades crave.
As my societal human shell moves to reject
everything my brain’s primeval desires
need the most.

K. Shawn Edgar | CocoBug | Mockingbird | Keyed


5 thoughts on “Key to Itself

    1. Thank you. Great comment. I now have to make a t-shirt with Metaphysical Mind Torture printed on it! That’s a wonderful phrase. Btw, your Buddha’s Art Shop looks really interesting. We should collaborate.

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