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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6kq3avwn_w&ab_channel=BabygrandeRecords

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If you were to ask him, now,

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Where it had all begun -

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Looked past the yellow jumpsuit,

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The ankle bracelets 

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And the vague expression of dejection 

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That'd been shadowed about his countenance -

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He'd've said

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That it started in his belly,

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In his stomach...

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That it rolled over 

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In the bellows of his bowels

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The way a dragon would, a wyrm,

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Had his gut been an Anglo-Saxon folk-tale

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And his ribs had been a dungeon.

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He'd've said that it started like a fire

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But that the fire had always been there.

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He'd've said, that part of him 

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Had always known that it was

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And that he'd been afraid

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Less of it's awakening

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Than he had been

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Of the things that might have cause

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To prod, or to provoke it

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Into unfolding within his abdomen.

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He'd have said that everybody has a fire like that,

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That there are all dragons under our beds.

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He'd've said that we were all afraid of them

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Despite what we might posit, or pretend.

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He'd've slumped over, in his aluminum chair,

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And he'd' have told you - to your face, 

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In the same side-angled manner

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That he force-fed the words into mine -

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That we all know right from wrong,

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All of us, even the psychopaths

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And the politicians,

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The lunatics or the pantomimes.

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He'd've said

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That there is something about good and evil,

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Justice, or injustice, truth, lies,

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The deplorable or the righteous,

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That is so old, and so intangible

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That it's almost as if 

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Something beside ourselves

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Had encoded it, into our genetics.

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And then, 

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Before the blue-suits could've drug him back

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Into the darkest corners of his isolation,

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The horrors that became solitude

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Or the tortures of confinement...

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He'd've said that it doesn't really matter 

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Which of the two that moves you,

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What manner of dragon

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That takes shape in the furnace,

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Stoking, beneath the surface

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And billowing from inside of you.

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But that it always began

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Somewhere within the stomach,

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In the belly,

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And that in the end

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It'd always be you - the utility, or the tool -

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That the fire'd ultimately be moved

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To use, or to breathe through.

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Author's Note

(experimental fiction - 'From a Witness to a Journalist - very rough draft')

(note: if I can just write one decent short this year, I can call it a success)

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Two images stand out immediately in this one, the belly and the dragon. The belly has a long history of being thought of as one of the two centers of deep emotion (the other being the heart.). The kind of feeling located here is one of great intensity for both good and evil. Think of fire in the belly motivation or hating someone's guts. The dragon, however, has usually been regarded in a negative manner. Psalm 91 refers to trampling the young lion and the dragon. It is because of this intensity and power that that the prisoner in the poem states we are all afraid of it. For if it gets out of control, as it often has, there will be hell to pay.

[Ookpik]

Hey John, good to hear from you.

I'll admit this one was somewhat vague - the ideas I had in mind were largely incomplete, and there are a lot of ambiguities here that I'd generally try to give more finish, were this a real attempt at completed material.

I'll have to check out Psalm 91, as there were some somewhat Blakeian ideas at play (tigers and lambs, as well as the artwork) and I do have a very general understanding as to the Medieval separation of humors.

For the most, you're on the right track in your interpretation. The dragon-stomach image was supposed to resemble a kind of egg, conception in a very abstract way (keep in mind that they'd be the attitudes of the prisoner's character). And that it was some sort of great passion that he'd been holding responsible for his lot (it's important that he holds something beside himself accountable, as in doing so he doesn't hold himself to the same standard).

Though again, the ethical ambiguity was the main focus.

Hating someone's guts is a funny way to look at it, as what I had in mind was more the hating of 'something' as opposed to 'someone' - and had been drawing on the question as to whether such hate can be justifiable, or if it's simply another reflection of the same deeper, or uglier evil.

Again, it's still early stages and may not go anywhere, but part of my process includes finger-painting with an idea, and that's really where I was at w/this.

Appreciate your coming by, as well as your insights.

-Ook