i’m here. not much more for now. still. just saying.
mondo actio el bloggo. of course it gets first choice. scrytching me arse off over there. lots of other stuff going on, too. sea change. tidal surge. suddenly the vanishing point is not so far away… which is odd. and a little frightening.
row row row your boat
gentle down the stream
merrily merrily merrily merrily
life will make you scream
hickory dickory dock
often life’s a shock
the chance you take
is the fate you make
there was never any clock
little merry quite contrary
how does your garden grow
with weeds and snails and fetid entrails
that lay rotting in the snow
scream me an astringent curse
and i’ll sing you a lullaby
maybe if we try hard enough
we’ll forget we knew how to cry
scrytch? what is this fucking scrytch of which you speak?
something? everything? nothing?
i knew scrytch before the king sat on his throne
before the sentry ever thought to bar the door
i knew scrytch when the king was not yet born
little more than an itch
in his father’s pants
or a shiver along his mother’s spine
do i need permission to create?
do we ever?
is there a special place where creation is somehow blessed?
and in all other places, cursed?
oh sure, catchy names are nice. i know a few myself.
met a few too. here and there, spent some time loving them,
such silky fur, such soft eyes, you almost forget they have teeth
what? scrytch?
what scrytch?
wht rytch?
why itch?
scratch damn you to hell
scratch until it bleeds
scratch until you reach the bone
scratch until you’re through it
scratch until you see
the itch isn’t it
it’s you