Virgins of weight
Nervously sit in their quarters of meat
Eating the floor, chewing, eating,
Until they fall down, into the Land Of Always Heavy
Where even the single photon
Burdens your spirits
And beats your back, the arms
Of the Queen of Always Heavy wield the Father Blade
Since the End of men
When the males' reproductive feathers turned into planets
Banana planets
Cry under a sun of worms
In your belly, my child, the itch
Shall forever be with you, in your fingers
And the galactic snakes from the dream of your mother
Will bite on the light, the heavy photons
Shall feed your reptilian hunger, the cold
Until the Supreme Digestion
Has rendered the light light
And your spirit free
::: ::: :::
[Picture: The Queen of Always Heavy by reading_is_dangerous] (On the road to Rutshuru, June 2008)
Posts
The Father Blade will not allow the Galactic Snakes to render the light light. But maybe the Queen of Always Heavy will find a way to overcome the Blade. The Blade needs the galactic snakes, too.
ReplyDeleteIt's a sad story.