Poetry. Okay, granted prose suits me better...just for fun.
Fear of Big Tiny Flagellum©
I wondered what it would be like to scream and
scream out your name although I think it would
make me hoarse or is that horse? and might serve
no radical purpose as my insidious plan supposed…
I believe you always loved me or my image or my
hair or my face or my eyes or my cranium or
perhaps it was the way I smiled faintly when the
drunken denizens of the music hall bar played and played at
eye intercourse surrounded by stale beer and a lack
of confidence except for the jocks, oh the jocks, I
guess theirs was a prized existence and you know
somehow I felt sorry for them, but why I don’t know,
and you, so out of place against the wall like a
chalk outline at a crime scene but quite the
serendipitous jewel for yours truly yes what a night
of discovery that was and now after so many times of
planting a fear of big tiny flagellum into your brain
oftentimes you still convulse with the memories, the
nightmares, the uncertainty of the id that I so aptly
wielded, unbeknownst to myself even, such a wild
time for us, a new time, a time for exploration but
tempered by harsh realities of genetics and immaturity
I can see you again, the only beauty out of the entire
scene…after that I had worse moments, not unlike
touching a hot burner on a stove with a blindfold on
after spinning around and around after being bombarded
with loud loud and disjointed music/sound/noise make it
stop! Stop! I can see you now, I am so sorry, very sorry,
I can stop the me me, believe me…I see that is difficult
for you to believe. don’t be afraid it is all in the past now,
yes I know you somehow doubt that but please don’t
fear, that was a long time ago now you know…you
can trust me,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
