https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2020-12-20T16_31_37-08_00
Cutting through the wonderland of our psyches with a Jung machete that
keeps us out of sorts for the spell we have left in this jungle of soot
and Covid tears
I was born broken like a bell ringer who never had a chance at happiness
because all their sadness was lumped in with the sacrifice of always
being on time
Stand up, stand down just don’t stand on anyone’s neck when they say
they cannot breathe and the single cigarettes they were selling are left
on the cold ground unlit and unsmoked
We freeze at the moment like the rest who don’t try because our sheep
mentalities are too easy to disguise as the next charitable cause as our
culture teeters upon extinction like saltpeter and Limp Bizkit
I had a headache so I swallowed the cyanide just like the doctor
prescribed and before I knew it I left my body and went to Florida to
retire with the rest of my delicatessen brethren
She was a vision of loveliness and death camp austere charms and I
intend that as a compliment as I slipped a mickey and a jarring remark
into her drink to both wake her up and extinguish any of her lingering
self-doubts
The poetry I write flows from some ancient river in the subconscious of
what was once my mind and is now just a vacant Walmart parking lot where
the homeless try to get on with their sleepless lives and the parked
cars get to know one another on a first name license plate basis
Tablet was mentioned which is a medium-hard, sugary confection from
Scotland. I became so excited I nearly wet myself because I’ve always
had a soft spot for the “The Candy Man.” First time I heard it in school
it chewed me up and spit me out like all childhood memories should.
Slicing through the horror of another misbegotten train wreck that I
believed was my life, but instead turned out to be just another wet
dream that I best sop up and move away from because little deaths never
turn out as awesome as you may have once believed them to be.
Charles Cicirella
12/20/20
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