Sunday, March 11, 2018

Take Me to the Bullfrog Pond!


.
.
When Luther sits beside his large amorphous brother
Ruperderma, whose rose-pink translucence rarely
strikes him now as anything but silly nuisance
and whose incapacity for thinking he need ever look
ahead apparently has left him idiotically without
a necessary sense of dread that he’d be dead one day
and that to laze about as if life were a holiday is not
the way Lou knew we had to pay for this existence,
he wonders, how can you know you’re anywhere if
you don’t know one day you won’t be here? Dare to scare
yourself with the reality of absence – reckon with 
the beckoning of the abyss, witless thing! Ruperderma
sat there happy in his dilly-dallying. Sometimes he’d sing:
“Take me to the bullfrog pond and marry me to me!
Then let’s let the three of us decide what you will be.”
.

.

No comments:

Post a Comment