Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Lead Poisoning


I've been walking the beach the hot hissing beach with bullets thumping sand poomp poomp poomp daring the piss poor shooters like the Colonel in Apocalypse Now standing tall and yelling at the heads cowering under hands and fetal positions and bodies pressed into every burp in the Earth. I'm asking for it right in the Kevlar. You can hit that right? Sure you can because everyone can have good aim sometimes and punch I take it in the stomach because I'm pretty hungry anyway and I bend down to pluck the metal mushroom salivating already down my chin and bites feel weird anymore not having teeth or maybe I do have teeth just metal turned to metal grrrrrriiiiinding but I'll never know because I pass the mirrors instead of break and look down down at anything except the other me looking down.

And back at home the paint is crumbling around the windows but damn does that shit taste good because it's really fucking old and someone I probably would've liked painted those layers gold-red-mustard-mint-white-mustard-mint and I snack in the closet creeping out when no one is looking since I might be turning into a worm but the mirror thing and all so I'm not sure and yeah that's funny because you wouldn't be looking either if you didn't hear my voice because it's not everyday you pass a window in the mood to hear someone dying from munching lead paint and vomiting little soldiers and dreaming about sand between my toes and bad aim and dreaming about learning disabilities but back under the cartoon sun the bullets poomping so hard I'm screaming and my stomach is too full to crawl anymore and my tongue is sailing away battleship grey.

You can laugh.

Because my blood is mercury and pops the glass in my brain. Arteries like thermometers popping when you play with matches. So what if my teeth marks are on the window frame.

I'm planning on staying a while. Munching just munching.

I'm polishing a nice caliber.

And saving the last one.



JaneyV said...

The rambling voice captures the confusion of madness very well. I was confused reading it, so read it a few times and I think I'll need to read it some more. I like the way the long, crazy sentences are juxtaposed with the shorter more lucid ones
I'm polishing a nice caliber.

And saving the last one.


The impact is all the stronger. I hope I have interpreted it as you intended. I look forward to seeing how your other readers read it!!

The photograph is amazing. Was it the inspiration?

Bernita said...

Original. Excellent.

Sarah Hina said...

Holy crap. That was unexpected. And not a little brilliant.

I saw him as a vet who had cracked under PTSD. Everyone can have good aim sometimes...

Amazing touches here, Jason. Vomiting little soldiers, tongue sailing away battleship grey, not being able to confront the mirror. What would he see, I wonder?

Scott said...

Dude, this rocked. I was imagining myself at a poetry read, spitting this out with passion, imagining my inflection and the stunned, attentive, slack-jawed faces of the crowd, totally mine for the moment.

ChrisEldin said...

Besides your series (like Westinghoused), this is among my favorites of your shorter writings.

Truly original. And the last few lines are inspired. Very very nicely done!

Ello said...

What a change up from what I've been reading from you in the past! This is great! I love the voice in it. Love the speed up rising crescendo to the end which then slows down to a crawl with deadly aim. Loved it.

Geraldine said...

Wow, this is powerful Jason. And I agree with Ello, a real change of pace from your recent works.

Anonymous said...

Janey, you've captured the structural impact very well. :) As for the meaning, I suppose it's a rich field to mine.

Bernita, thanks, my friend.

Sarah, on that particular day, he would see someone who looks like me.

Scott, you captured this one perfectly. It was an experiment in the expression of emotion. Let's face it, no sooner do you begin to describe an emotion, when you squelch it. The experience of emotions doesn't lend itself to words and logical explanation. Here, I was describing a huge emotion that is only barely being filtered through the rational brain. Those parts are what are hastily adding the metaphors. A visceral performance in a coffee shop would be perfect!

Chris, much appreciated, especially since I thought I would get a very chilly reaction to this one. I'm grateful for the response, actually.

Ello, The Clarity of Night has become awfully sunny and flowery lately. It's about time that I got my hands dirty again. :)

Geraldine, I try to keep pushing the envelope and trying new things. The blog is more fun to read that way (I hope).

SzélsőFa said...

Paul's creepiest return. This was breath-taking, Jason.

Miladysa said...

I like the why you started this one Jason, strong first line. Sucked me right in and I thought "What?!"

I love that feeling, when you read something and you have to 'think'. There is nothing worse than reading on autopilot :-D

FANCY said...

I have put a link to you from me...hope that is ok ;-)

Anonymous said...

Szelsofa, thanks! A little intensity for a change in pace.

Miladysa, those first lines are so important in blog writing. I really try to anchor some interest right off the bat. It's so easy for folks to just surf on to the next page.

Fancy, I'd love a link! I will be sure to link back. :)