Thursday, April 8, 2010

Judeo-Christian hospitality

by Tarik Linthicum

Let's be cutthroat and spill the blood of a thousand martyrs, revel in their mystic cacophony.

Float, a barge in veins, sail up arteries, catch a souvenir
or two.

Glide, tear the flesh, from the inside, ripping, ripper, exposing the soul's cowardly

Emerging, making a mark at the center of the dartboard,
ignoring the hoard of missed opportunities.
Let it flash,
as it only can in moonlight,
the sleek glimmer of
hard-wrought metal, implant
purple-heart bravado. And later on,
we can say they died with honor.

Authorial minds hiding behind dictatorship, issuing forth communal wells
of heaven-sent shit, that scent is fresh, and the dogs of war
smell flesh; ripping, ripper,
expose the soul's cowardly quiver.

That sweet bliss of mist, that
drowsy sense of
uncertainty, shadows

in blind spots.

A pandemic run rampant arrest-
ing alkaline droves the salty taste of iron saturated in every ion
of fiber. Leaven loaves with alchemical mold, maturing in
an imaginary grove.

Eyes plucked, fair is fair, blind
to worldly affairs, and now the ears must hear, the soul
train of heaven. The anticipation carried by the tracks, a koan on loan, until you

settle the facts; dejected by an ephemeral nirvana. The map is valid, if the damned

territory ceases to wander. Neutral expiation, and
a rather arbitrary duration.



rather arbitrary directions; always
a rather arbitrary explanation.

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