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…