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Revved Up Like A Moose

I hereby take you, to be my reader, to salve and to scold, as debtor or worse, for ditcher, for borer, in thickness and in stealth, to shove and to perish, till death screw us smart.

The sad part is I wrote a few different openings and that was still the best one. 🙂

No further preamble, I’ll share some notes in the post-ramble.


“Blinded by the Sight”, July 30, 2020.

An empty gallery, silent and chill, slumbers passively, doors slightly ajar

The crisp air slowly escapes into the transient warmth of a summer evening

Long halls of meticulously curated art orderly await next day’s voyeurs

But lacking accurate classification, plaques are mere paltry fragments

Framed lacking context and of polished ancient timber

An exclusively human grown forest of divine rainbow-mottled trees

Each a singular looking glass into distinct settings

Changing worlds, phasing dimensions, augmenting perception

Uniquely proficient psychic teleportation

Meanwhile, intrepid derelict taps at glass door, subtly nudging farther open

Lightly clips past security desk, unperturbed, elsewhere engrossed

Chasing dying essence of veritable aromatic smorgasbord

Before halting abruptly, stunned, before picturesque landscape

Pristine waterfall and foliage of fable effortlessly hypnotizing

Vacant stare equivalent to being seized in beams of maximum luminosity

Feet remaining firmly planted, head adrift in cosmic infinity

Losing balance and beginning to tip forward

Pulled with increasing vigour towards stroked nobility

Lights flick on, trance is broken, and frantic escape quickly made

Cursing their forgetfulness, night guard closes door but chuckles with good humour

Always grateful to engaged visitors from any kingdom and for deer life itself.


Yes, veritable smorgasbord was a “Charlotte’s Web” reference.

I amused myself trying to fit all 7 main taxonomic ranks into the piece. Obviously, I fell short but let’s see you figure out a way to add “phylum” or “genus” in a clandestine fashion. In composition, like in washrooms, you don’t want to force things. Lest one stroke out. And no one wants to get found like that. Dead writing poetry? The horror.

I went with the non-binary “their” for the security guard, please feel free to fill in the image as you would. If the notion offends you, get over yourself and kindly stop facilitating making difficult lives even harder. Don’t be a dick, or do, but in a different context.

I always thought the song was saying, “revved up like a douche” as a kid. Led to some confusion regarding cars and the female reproduction system. To this day do I still scarcely comprehend the mechanics of either.

That’s all for today folks, much gratitude to everyone for visiting!

-Alex Blaikie

 

 

Categories: poetry writing

Tagged as:

dReadpoetssobriety

A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.

13 replies

  1. Your commentary so often catches me off-guard. I did in fact pass out on a toilet once, woke up to the sound of flushing, I had no idea how long I was lying on the back of the toilet flushing it. Super embarrassing, and no one was even there to witness my embarrassment. apparently I don’t need other people around to be embarrassed. Happy tails!

    Liked by 1 person

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