Scapegoat [Part One]

He fears…

that point when the telly has nothing left to offer

but mindless chatter for the half-witted;

submitting to the power of the red button

shutting down the on-screen world,

leaving him alone with himself and the prospect of bed.

 

Sleep brings dreams.

 

In his dreams

like a kid let loose in a sweet shop

he’s chasing after

sugar and spice and all things nice

reckless

grabbing

thrusting rock-hard candy into gap-toothed mouths

while skipping ropes pluck at forbidden grounds

 

and he’s

King of the Castle

King of the Jungle

wading through rushes and creepers and netball skirt pleats

the white rabbit

tumbling down the hole

after Alice

in the dark

calling “Let me be your friend”

 

whiplash

lands him in strip-tease Las Vegas

where Alice makes a re-appearance

flipped on her back from the top deck

and he reaches out but finds himself

buried up to the neck in gambling debts

by disdainful royals brandishing clubs and spades

 

then the garden

always the same:

the owner of a small hand leading the way

down shimmering path into the evergreen rockery;

kneeling beside the ornamental birdbath

where he lays an unresisting form in dewy grass

bordered by tiny ladybird parades

 

[f*****g women who shrink into babies who melt into dolls whose faces crumble like brittle skulls long-dead in some field of horror…a single accusatory eye staring through him into a celibate future]

 

alarm trumpeting disruption

OFF. WITH. HIS. HEAD. OFF. WITH. HIS. HEAD.

strange worlds shatter into harsher reality

on the coattails of disturbing imagery

which he succumbs to bleakly...

 

Author's Note

if you liked this, please read Parts Two and Three, as they explain further. Thanks.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

this one is definitely multifaceted - at least that is what I get from it...love the references to Alice throughout the poem...the language is strong - visceral - very much like a nightmare experience - full sound and color - this one spills down the page wonderfully.

[Rain]

C..
I'm with Bubo, there's not much to be critical of. I loved the way it kind of guided me through your mind. You have a total supporter of me when you write of the little box of fear. Jesus, playgrounds are deadly, "How safe is your water ? " Are you children safe in a bus ? etc..etc.
I really like this work. You have a unique, interesting style. I'm going to read more, right now.
Take care, Rain

[Bubo]

What can I say?
There is no criticism............it weaves and moves down the page perfectly and the images
are spectacular.................what a dream!
The opening of a man numbed by tv entertainment.

[Joe Butler]

that is pretty damn awesome..