glass & the machines of god, part II
--
eyes were being scratched still and tattoos applied, but no one could or would ever hear the full secrets of glass...he was rewriting his story every day, moving the fixed destiny point with every triumph and mistake...every kiss held new promise, every song a new disaster...all were sung to the ghost children, the synthetic flesh flash of ideal glitter gash...in their dreams they saw him surreal, but he was as real as they needed him to be...discarded until he roared back into their vision, within blood and sound, once invested there was no turning back for anyone...plastic playmates and wooden rock rot haunted their hari kari plots and glass's obvious play for sympathy, or was it the other way around...he was a general leading them all into a war that he and they knew they could never win...but still they fought...to love and always die standing...moving in night funerals because all the others had perished,he caught glimpses of their faces every once in a while in rubble and wreckage strewn...he had fought way too long, jaw wired shut...and now he held too long...past sleeping futures and endless newscasts, seeking shelter and a place to once again call home...in the dark he would fumble with food and foe, seeking contact and knowing confirmation...cells sighing agreement over concrete cold, always remembering...as if drawn, he would lumber on,gun in hand and tears in heart...he tried to keep a journal but kept losing the pages...pictures of the trees and dales taped to his chest...he had gone mad but there was no longer anyone he heard or respected to tell him so...the grass grew very fast and it seemed he had to cut it every 4 or 5 days...in radio static he waited for an order that may never come...he never wanted to be outside in the direct sun, but the trees sang him to sleep...the weeping willow out back seemed to hang it's hurt so obvious and no one seemed to mind...out the window he stared,seeking her and them...a day would come his mind would drone but there was no one there to agree...in fact the entire weight of his surroundings seemed to indicate the exact opposite...but like a dumb fish he kept swimming upstream...there was little of beauty to guide except the sun and moon,his constant companions...in majesty the full night came...the daylight only providing protection for the scars laid bare the night before...the pills seemed to have fallen on the floor everywhere,and no matter how hard one scrubbed the dirt was always there...even the neighbors smelled the garbage and impolite realities piled high and often,spilling over the redwood fence into their perfect yards...in the morning the grass shone dew prisms...in the midday sun it burned scorched brown thirst...and at night held cool moon dust and starlight...out here the universe was vast only in distance...it was never meant to be held here, it cried a mystery I am...and you must find me first if this game is ever to begin...in faith there is all power, in love all faith...every action a pebble dropped into the clear pool of humanity, rippling forever on until the waves become indecipherable and unseen...what seems like confusion becomes order of the highest magnitude...glass had so long ago reasoned himself out of reason... anxious but not afraid he told himself that this meant something over and over until he began to believe it...the mask came off and he beheld yet another mask...like all mod