Often trees are conductors of the absolute, the sidereal cuss
eternity. the blow escapes the rehab and into the fire as known
but
lost coupons short of your toaster of existence. the mind needs consciousness,
consciousness does not need mind. Bon Voyage.. when the body revolts within itself, and parts battle
parts,
it's the last revolution, the last pogo, follow the few that
have wisdom, don't let it deceive with knowledge, the brass ring of annihilation, you'll be recognized by a chip, and maybe it will be all that's left..

Friday, August 1, 2014

Pris Campbell

pris campbell | izzy’s dream

      

Izzy’s Dream

Izzy Buchanan watches old movies
until his eyes rim red, utters
‘Rosebud’ (mysteriously) on the bus,
sidewalk and convenience stores.
He talks about bananas in pockets
and asks everyone if they think Rhett
ever returned to Scarlett.


Oblivious to stares, he sings the
Brigadoon song and taps his way
across the throughway, horns honking,
cars veering, people screaming
on their cells to 911 reporting
a lunatic on the loose.


He thumps his chest, pretends
he’s King Kong, grabs a blonde
from a stalled car (she reminds him
of Fay Wray) and disappears back
into Brigadoon’s mist on the other
side of the highway.


Izzy prefers living in Movieland.
It’s better than his almost foreclosed
house, a boss who threatens to replace
him with a twenty year old and a wife
who turns her back whenever he reaches
over to touch her.
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