RSS SPIRIT

Overblown emotion anthropomorphized






A picayune desire to pluck out the eyes of the driver of the white Escalade with a pick, or a pitch fork, whichever is closer. The fumes of noxious rage choke. Cough, assemble oneself and pretend for happiness.

Happiness actually arrives. A billowing flickering, a love struck insect at the first spring light. Wait a minute, is this even, could this even be happiness? Buzz contentedly to the next intersection. Others see this happiness, inhale it and become energized, made more robust, i.e. happy. To be filled with good tidings, an essential lubricant. It ensures that when we hop on each other it is a luscious lucubration.

This joy jumbles into a juggle, a jawbreaker of melancholy floats like a bee on the wind off the sea. It splatters into a gutter at a stop light. The people and their pain ensnare in an enervating web. So many who merely clench against the dark.

Out blurts a grief, a blow from the spasm of suffering. An infrared moan surrounds the intersection and heaves between gritted teeth. An impulse to flee and an impulse to help. This contradiction confounds the cranial goo and so another feeling insinuating in through an interstice of flow.

But where to flee, how to help? This friction of passion and plea cause heat. This heat swells a bubble in the loins. A wanting ripples and is excited by the passing of sweet young things. To flee into sensual delights would be out of sight. To line up a thousand beauties and one by one scrump them until the screams of paradise are heard at dawn. Oh it is a pain this lust, a lather of demon Xanadu where lovers wail and drool falls from the lips of participants.

Composure arrives on a shaft of light between two skyscrapers. Oh what foul sensualism overwhelms with insidious genetical notions. Lo, at the "don't walk" sign a light of Apollonian wisdom. A classical sense of passionate serenity - the clear wind of order and experience that allow life to radiate with quiet majesty.

Until the light goes green and the "walk" sign goes white and a mass scurry to the next bit of cheese. The thought of cheese incites a hunger. A wistful desire for Mexican food. Perhaps, if life decides to dispense mercy, a nice Mexican dinner will appear in the stomach later.

And so with rage, grief, joy, melancholy, terror, passion, lust, enlightenment and hunger in the heart the walk ensues. Red light, green light.


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