Sunday, February 23, 2014

Tombstone Suggestion

there. in the deep of sea, i encountered all that is dark in me.


Another rolling wave that ushers every detailed ulcer,
some poison who toiled with me in hope I would be gentle.
Let us switch now, from the first to our famous third person:

"I'm happy," said a human being in the environment. "I'm happy to be
out and about. Feeling the breeze, the salts in air, how wonderful!"
Small whirlwind appears next to this cheerful person's foot, a grin of wind.

We're still in the third person, and that grin is accumulating mischief.
Mischief, mind, not malice. Type of thing who would rather tap on your head
and allow pigeons to crash into it, than totally bash it in.

"What if you just dove off?" suggested this little, naughty wind, causing a pause.
They were at a cliff, upon which an enterprising man had seen fit to supply coconuts
chopped clean from their tops and prodded with huge plastic straws out of proportion.

"I'm getting coconuts," she said, absent of mind and further infuriating the evil wind.
Her body began to float toward the businessman. Twas all a daemon could do to keep up.
"You are getting coconuts?" said the wind. "This is a poem about death and suicide, you're getting bloody coconuts?"

The human stopped and smiled at the wind. Then, why just smile, but also let out a beautiful laugh?
Tried to gather the wind and hug it close to her, but could not, since it was, well, wind.
"You were going to make some kind of proposition?" she said, pushing cash from her wallet

and pulling the coconut in. The wind watched this activity with great distaste.
"Suddenly you're a woman, now. We started with you being androgynous."
"And then your puny mind projected all your thoughts and beliefs about a girl you once met

upon that flavorless template. See how your little mind works? Now come on," she said approaching the edge.
"That man had only one coconut. Who sets up a whole business like that, to sell one coconut at the cliff?"
From there, in their depths, you could see the waves crashing in earnest. "Come now. You said you had something to say."

It was getting really hot, the wind. Seeing those crashey waves was doing something to it,
changing it, making it whistle in strange and uncertain ways. "I did," said the wind, "I did,"
the girth from its eye of hope was narrowing, and the cyclone was fermenting illustriously its smile.

Then just quietness. No sounds. Nothing, really. The wind had to text her in order to keep the conversation going.
"I was going to tell you to just jump off" it texted.
She furiously typed back on the phone: "WTF???!!!?? WTF wtf WTF???!!!"

He furiously typed back, reborn and with a greater sense of clarity: "Listen!
I was going to ask you to jump off, indeed. But only so that I could actuate,
only that in your darkest slice of time, I'd rally and be there for you, lifting you gently to the shore."

They both laughed horrendously. It was terrible, their sound.
"You are a stupid and vain little man," she said.
"I know," said the wind. "All mischief and no malice."

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