there were three faces upon the king in those days; one of an angry aspect, one of a benevolent aspect, & one of an alien aspect. the first face a kind ruler would turn against the foes of the kingdom, while a tyrant might turn its gaze against the citizenry. the second face was a face of diplomacy & charity; it was the most beloved of the three faces. the third face, twisted into a mockery of human features, was worn when the king interceeded with the gods. oh what gods were there then, that the king must come before them wearing that monstrous visage? well here is a fucking hint. every angel sent after the fall of the kings of men said "fear not" as the first thing out of their mouth. except, you know. when it was indeed time to fear. fear, oh egypt, where the last true kings reigned.
May 6th, 2005
the sky is as bruised as over-ripe fruit, as toothy as a venus fly trap. man, the cage of the sky. the cage of skin, as bruised as the slur across your face. but i look at all the black & blues of today & it ain't so bad. this life has some teeth in it, to gnash, stalagtite versus stalagmite. i mean, i'm trapped in this cave-in, hallucinating angels, so it can't be all bad. minus, minus. i mean, this life as slime-y as seaweeds dragging across your legs when swimming. spasm & think about that which lurks beneath the surface, think about how that ought to be you. how that sure is you, yes sir & salute, you good soldier. tentacle to brow, salute. whistle in the dark if you have to, charles wallace. this here mordicai is going to play the angel's X game.