Unglue gritted eyes to dawn intimate in cactus arms

The one night stand has pierced whatever has replaced my soul

Pick up stick, heft the gun, unwind hessian scarf  from my chip chopped lips

Grind the peanut, stagger start in jagged spirals hoping to fall in a hole

You’d think money bathing geeks in shining tumbled towers could have figured out

How to teleport everlasting water through the wind-swept years for desert-wandering lolls

 

Spin spin into a fuzzhead faint as vascular crispiness takes its toll

 

 I saw all hate dressed up like fate ha let me tell you it was great to see the terraforming of the weaker species

hostile alien hosts were buzzed in our fortified front door by our treacherous commanders, those

white-armoured mole insiders at the puffed up pinnacle of humankind ushered in a rank Regime

 in greener days we’d knighted them with white capes and in-chipped sceptres for their sacred soldierhood

oh fools, now peanuts in my pocket are my sole propulsion pious to my desiccation

I will always be hungry and they will always be crunchy

 

I remember very little but sizzle-sailing to safety with some shadowy companions

Water streamed in through the hull but we landed quite pristine 

So I dunno how I got here to this desert though I suspect some gogglefaces fiddled with my memory

I half remember landing in some golden paradise with beaming plant-life teeming

Sheaves of satin grasses crisply blackly echoed on some rolling hills behind them

I ached to take a photo but we forgot to bring a camera from the apocalypse like shoddily packed teens

 

I remember I remember we wore white in those days and it was Auto-Cleaning

 

Stalking that elusive moisture something glimmers shivering ahead, some vertical mirage 

It doesn’t shudder as much as me as I put on salivating stumbling speed

Do you remember the white towers that shimmered silver in and out of ether?

I lived in one with a bright gloried view, no wait that was a movie lead

Here sands are heaving without breathing up and down, they are mammoth frozen waterless waves

I look about the wasteland with a cracking in my lower mind, and torrential ice slams down on me

 

Good god

 Good gods above

 I know this place 

This is the sum of all misdeeds

 

radial circumferences stretch round and round forever all about they pile up atop each other in their haste to get away from the obliterating drop in the earthly bucket a scattered hull is chuckling the mirage is a white tower I know now what this flatness is, these are the golden lands in which we laid, the cracked up hull was mine and my companions before green earth was smashed the nuke ticker cannot be turned back our white-caped kings turned proudly black their folly crowned with blood beaten from us by the stars I am afire like nevermore before this day if I could remember clear before this day but I die down to embers and am totally dismembered for still is something unremembered before this day I need I need some peanuts

 

I tremble and tromp and trip over a partly buried shiny thing and poke it with my stick

Just clean enough to see myself, I am ancient Egypt’s mummer spliced with a dirty yeti

I see I have a face and I wear might have once been white, now cracked with blood and long lost crispy chinks

A spiky fear is pricking here and with a well-placed jab the crusty fabric hisses like a kitty

It shimmers and shakes and new molecules makes, is whole and clean and glowing and hell

These golden sands were golden lands and somehow now I wear the garb of them who made it so unpretty

 

Oh my oh my undead land, how have I come to wear this bloody cape of treachery?

 

WHACK an arm across my chest there is a man here shouting! my stick jumps up and whacks him he yells nice to have you back again whack whack he grabs the stick have you recalled yourself again? my stick is flick flack scrapping into bits that halt and glow and fail to land not wood but dust masked metal made of chips that rebound, reform and cling into a staff white and Auto-cleaning

 the sceptre of the rank regime

 

in my shaking hating hand this white rod of dissolution I remember I remember

 

–

2017

© Nichola Tatyana

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