Horizontal Bopping

image borrowed from bing

Horizontal Bopping

“Each of us can manifest the properties of a

field of consciousness that transcends space,

time, and linear causality.”--Stanislav Grof

Life is linear,

with inception as crowned vanguard,

& deterioration as

destination, creating a

vibrant colorful mosaic, a throbbing

kaleidoscope, a series 

of devious gilded

dust bunnies, kenneled in brass

pots, tucked under

beds, stacked in 

teetering tall piles in the

corner, hidden in

closets, sequestered in

broken shoe boxes, saved in

forgotten family albums,

treasured within folds

of red velvet, gift-wrapped tightly

in tissue paper.

***********************

Death is the

impudent speck of counterpoint, egress

as extinguishment, our

imminent arrival at

Critical Mass, having traveled inexorably

from birth of

a planet to

the death of a star;

the magical transition

another face, a

different roof, a parallel dimensional

 and domicidal shift 

with different doorways 

for each of us, windowless,

wiped of numerals.

*****************************

Death as lover

lies with mold on bread crust,

with the fish

on dirty ice,

with bloody steaks piled up

neatly in shrink--

wrapped pinkish lines,

with the flowers cut and

ready to wither,

with the polished

color-injected fruit placed perfectly

in supermarket bins;

everything waiting for

the passionate embrace of many

mouths, mighty molars

reducing it to

grist, paste, & slivers before

rot robs its

beauty, rendering it

sustenance for carrion, for pets,

whose alimentary components

are impervious to

the several varieties of carcinogens

deep within it;

harbored, hidden, but

obviously still a beast at

bay, restrained, tethered,

muzzled, yet never

eradicated, excommunicated, banished, forsaken, broken

beyond its voracity. 

Glenn Buttkus

February 2013

Posted over on dVerse Poets OLN

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