Lull

[kindofahippy]

Lull

The wolverine slept as the moon curdled,
and the pineapple closed its eyes and dreamt a
Minotaur, in sorrow and joy, sending
a marble down a flat plane. The world
simmers with a haunted feeling that whorled
around some painted antler is an end
with our beginning pinned within it,
panting helplessly, matched, and on Forty-Forth

and Main, I feel a light, banana-yellow,
warm, oily, and sweet. At six, the bell goes
rich, deep, patient. It can wait,
whatever's next again, and straightness,
I'll pretend, has no curl. Let's watch the day
end and think, say, the sun will never come up again.

People are responsbible for so much damage to the natural world. Folks just toss old plastic water bottles on the ground without thinking, which causes wolverine indigestion. Next thing you know, the genetically modified harvest is trying to bring down our way of life. Progress slows down to a marble on a flat plane, and the corporate Minotaurs take control of everything, leaving the populace below in fits of emotional trauma. Rush hour traffic creeps around pretzel interchanges like bugs on a painted antler, where eventually it will reach an end with the beggining when you can't even drive any more which would kind of shut down infrastructure and unless we have flying cars in the next twenty years or so we go back to horse and buggy on the eight lane highways where a route has been plowed through the mass of stuck and long dead cars. The panic and nightmare of the day still haunts the protaganist, who got out of his Audi when the news came over the radio that he couldn't even hope to get out of the metro area for ten hours, a record low for the week, so he took a taxi but that was no good, and it turned out he was too out of shape to walk, so he only managed to escape the mobs and havoc with a segway and a prayer.

Line 8, "Forty-Fourth"[/b]