Loo Morgue

It's interesting how denial seems to work so well in the minds of those who use it and so very poorly on the minds of those on whom it is used.

The subconscious knows

where the bodies are buried.

 

And self-consciousness

does not want to reveal them,

the eye-sores of awareness

that are tucked away

behind a mask of disbelief,

covered by those

other thoughts,

the faith that we somehow

are masters

of what our behaviors display

to those to have a lick of sense

and some powers

of observation.

 

Oh, there's no hiding!

 

Each and every move

along the line

quivers an electronic pulse

that signals to the strand

that something,

however indistinct

it might seem to be,

however disguised

by subtle washings

of goody two shoe smiles

and gifts that are meant to shift

and ploy and play

that magic wonder game

of slight-of-hand,

the markers are there,

and the surface is just

a narrow veil

of cracking crust

that wears so thin

as judgments poke

the plastic neon charades

of candied death

into the open air

and then the fireworks

are lit

and every snake

and shark will work his way

into the middle

of a destiny

that waits its turn

to rumble through

the dirt wherein

the bodies lie.

 

runningturtle87