Live every waking moment as miserable myth.
TIMEBOMBING BY MARIGO STATHIS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 90
You think you don’t wear it
on gilded sleeve,
yet you do
live every waking moment
as miserable myth,
pretentious parable.
One lick of the serpent’s tongue,
and you burned from
that which took you
two times nine months to become.
Orgy ridden, your body
still trickles toxins
that pool in the aftermath
of flesh and soul,
the abyss of earth-time.
Too much liquor melts cubes
in half-empty spaces;
glassy-eyed despair fills—
a toast, the spill,
and it’s gone until
you distill again with mirrored lines
and millionaire races,
nothing to show for it
but plastic-smiled faces.
A viewer to your film,
I grew voiceless as
thinly veiled themes exposed
cruel actors sub-plotting
naked, designer labeled dreams,
poorly fashioned,
clearance-saled,
and with each hour:
the price.
Debbie, though I believed
the true, inner victor
wanted all of it
Cut! Take Two!
I realized I couldn’t
save you
from the Samurv,
the curse,
yourself or
anything at all
that happened since
the day he stole yo…