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Monday, December 27, 2010


Huns stride across the screen,
trampling dreams and hobbits.
I have no interest in the symbolism
of geeks and Lords; in the cosmic
struggle, geeks rule corner boys,
blood and flesh lost in darkness.

The blizzard rages. I wonder if I left
my car lights on. I become obsessed
with my alternator. As the trilogy
continues, I am frozen by fear
of dead black Maximas, desperately
I distract myself with fantasies
of my favorite mental disorder,
(folie a deux, a madness built for two),
though clearly he and I have created
boundaries delineating individual
bouts with insanity rather than shared
delusions. I attempt to settle the fine points
of our relationship during a commercial
break, but fall asleep on his shoulder,
as he drinks soda and discourses
on sixth century history with his right
brain, I am dreaming in blinding
white light, oblivious to classical
antiquity and Nubian Kingdoms –
rolling credits wake me, brainstorms
rush through my veins, the clarity
of hallucinations comfort me,
and in the midst of the worst
December blizzard in memory
all is suddenly,

© puma perl, 12/27/10

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