Monday, August 17, 2009

Tonight You Will Be Mine


The television sulks in the corner, muttering away to itself about inane essentials, pretending to ignore her.
She takes her medicine, inhaling deep; the room holds its breath, afraid to ask.
And exhaling through the rings of felled trees where dulled axe handles choose to rot amongst the writhing fungus in time-lapse frames of photo-finished sepia mementos; exhaling great industrial skies criss-crossed with contrail rings and hearts coagulating arterial; she finds herself seated before its eye, sucking in the waves of love that are its want to give.


Tales for the attention deficit reader

5 comments:

Harnett-Hargrove said...

Thanks for the slice. I like the hard-edged graphic photo. -Jayne

Yodood said...

The vampire on her back, it tells her all it tells her she wants to want to know. Energy and matter informed by dna and tv create a misguided muscle.

Harlequin said...

striking graphics all around, word, felt sense and image; really well done.

Garth said...

Jayne: photo is from 1984

Yodood: Iggy Pop once said "America takes drugs in psychic defence" Unfortunately the most insidious drug in our western democracy is the one injected directly into the optic nerve.

Harlequin: Orwell had it wrong: the television does not need to see you - you merely need to see it.

the walking man said...

What odd creatures we have become. Willingly enslaving ourselves to paying for possessions never realize that we are the possessed.

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