Mediocre Epic(P)

PART I

He takes a knife
From the fifteen dollars
Seventy-three cents knife block
On the greasy Laminex
In the massively empty kitchen
In a blandly horrific
Three bedroom home
In a suburb far far away
He takes the brightest knife
To dull the pain

An incision from left to right
Accentuates his eyes
Makes him look
Beautiful
Reflected
In the unwashed stainless steel
Or clownlike
Like the sideshow that he is
It makes him look
Happy
Like he is laughing
Or screaming

In his favourite dreams
Everyone
Hates his intestines
The doctors shake their heads
Off their necks
Freud is silent
(Thinking about his mother)
His girlfriend leaves him
His teachers peer gingerly
Choke back their wisdom
And point out instead the brilliance of the sky
A pale shade of something
Reflected twice
In his brimming laughing
Mind’s eyes

Furrowed painted faces
Not as beautiful as his own
Mouth verses from the Bibles
(Available in a variety of designs and colours)
The sacred word of contract prophets
Unheard over the roar of mediocrity
A deluge rising from their cracked skulls
Drowning

Feeding time


PART II

God was great.
He’d achieved so much
In less than a week! and
Still had time for a break
From His busy schedule

Years wasted away
Hunched on special
Ergonomically-designed
Instruments of torture
Tracking mounds of life
As they stumble through
Fluorescent labrynths
Piled high with riches

Built by God’s own hand
These divine truths of commerce
Outlined in glary neon haloes
Blinding

A Life
Full of pages
Tattered buckled with the years
Bound with countless ropes
Around countless poles
On countless street corners
Forgotten torn wildly inaccurate depictions
Of nottobemissedevents
He had missed

He’d been busy

To be continued.