“Stop! You must curtail your bizarre behavior,”

says the man with the stick,

“You really must,” he says

adjusting his hat.

But, he’s not talking to me,

he’s talking to the creature we become—

in the stretch back to the first realm.

“Adjust behavior and commiserate elsewhere,”

says the fat man

“You really must,” he says

poking the creature’s chest.

The creature, call us Communion,

howls indignant turns back to the wall—

string dangling from our slippery hands.

“Non-compliance is unacceptable,”

shouts the rigid man,

“Unacceptable and you must stop,” he shouts

and we pay em no mind

We are disconnected from that world,

there is only blood here and glue and string—

this creation nothing else.

Poem | Podcast

Episode Link | Archive Item | YouTube