04-29-2013, 12:06 PM
Four shampoo bottles, two on either side of the north end.
Four soldiers, standing upright and proud,
at the lip of a dam which intermittently fills
with scalding or freezing water, depending on the whims
of my celestial hand. What is this, however?
Another soldier? Secreted by a long blue curtain,
a dirty waterfall spattered with grease,
in a corner of the south end. That coward,
shamelessly hiding beside the spouts
while his comrades face the high windows.
The villagers arrange on a shelf,
led by an electric toothbrush, a lonely priest
getting his flock into line. Beside them is my mirror,
an old wooden frame displaying, at intervals,
the lord of their tedious lives.
Four soldiers, standing upright and proud,
at the lip of a dam which intermittently fills
with scalding or freezing water, depending on the whims
of my celestial hand. What is this, however?
Another soldier? Secreted by a long blue curtain,
a dirty waterfall spattered with grease,
in a corner of the south end. That coward,
shamelessly hiding beside the spouts
while his comrades face the high windows.
The villagers arrange on a shelf,
led by an electric toothbrush, a lonely priest
getting his flock into line. Beside them is my mirror,
an old wooden frame displaying, at intervals,
the lord of their tedious lives.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
