Speed Scene

The unbandaged mummy

Rewinded in toilet paper

Laughed to the door

Of the Mistress of Wolves

Afloat in her undulations

She only spoke pig Latin

To her fish tank, she said

Advancing her third ear

Sound waves blasted

A goose step in every wrinkle

Of skin

The others just sat

Part of a grander chaos

Of disassembled brains

The dark came coughing up worms

Islands of half formed words

Dribbled into the disinterested sand

A flying bottle

Instigated a boardwalk riot

In the gathering sky

Another rumble fitfully collapsed

On the inflamed heads of the mob

Gradually the rain branched out

Its hypodermic arms

In backward flowing time

The uninvited dawn

Blabbed over the monological mattress

Of her still unwinding story

Related in mixed voices

And thereby defying any notion

Of a continuous person

Willfully plunging another injection

Into a bruised vein

And as everyone wanted more

There wasn’t a limit in sight

Not a crack in the wall

Nor a stain on the floor

That didn’t emerge

Into a Sahara of space

Complaining of missed heart beats

She gasped to the sink

And slipped on her vomit

Years flew from her stunned look

Lonelier than the others in the room

Is there anything more indignant

Than invaded blood?

Emptier than a stare

That cannot stop receding?

On the ascended ceiling

Voices comforted her

Quieter in the cave

Of an eight watt bulb

“But excuse me,” she sighed

“I’ve got to go polish my toes!”