Nine of Cups [click to see pdf]
Walking on Hexagons [for A.M.]
1. I dearly wish to engage you, capricious reader. Hold a place for me, I implore you, upon your bathroom bookshelf. Ruminate upon these wafers of communion make-believe as you baptize your daily renderings of dark matter.
2. Join me in furious debate within the cloistered cacophony of your skull. Learn, with me, the seductive parity that secretly links our plot-lines. Underneath the dinner table, let the friction of our slutty socked feet find palatable the dessert course for which we have no proper utensil.
3. Let us find a bloodier bond than kin or friendship; one which more keenly resembles a lively but disinterested emnity.
4. I wear the same cheap vinyl skin everyone else does. I bleed jelly like Stretch Armstrong at the jibes of pricks. I bristle when contradicted and curse the knife that heals me. Sue me, so. Only I’m human. The path we beat between our doors is paved with apologies and illuminated by misunderstandings. But let us bear with one another.
5. Let’s agree to be disagreeable enough not to care whether or not we disagree until we’re both wearing bruised egos, both of us humbled and amused at having negotiated, upon the summit of our discord, a bold new way to share the onus of error.
6. Let us, therefore, give our lives over to the pursuit of meaning, even at the cost of madness. Let us choose lives devoted to grandiose delusion. Let us each wander alone into the wilderness, and, by separate and solitary means, divine the location of the highest mountain imaginable. Thereto, let us scale the sheer rock face to an apogee unseen, so that when the air thins and the words fall like hair from our heads, and when our hearts fail and our flesh no longer abides by our unreasonable drive—-when our rash, impolitic disregard for any human company other than that of fellow shut-ins, each only too happy to forsake our humanity for the betterment of man——let us shoulder this absurd burden in riotous number and join our voices to shout Non serviam! to the grimy banality of mortal boredom.
World without end, yours truly, etc. etc.
J.K.Johnson [06.10.14 ~ ATL]