by V. Blake
splay me out like a Vitruvian Man
on your Playskool operating table.
transfuse me with enough quicksilver blood
to ensure that my shotgun heart never stops
pumping shells into my brain.
string me up from the sky like a marionette,
and watch me swing from the rafters of space-time.
then stash me away in earth's dusty attic,
until the asbestos go supernova
and the paint chips off my eyes.
sacrifice me on a cardboard altar
to the god of babies left in dumpsters
and lend my name to whichever flavor of bleach
you decide to feed all the survivors
who have to clean up this mess I've made.
and i'll try not to be too grateful
for the mercy you will have shown me.
Posted on 12/16/2009
Copyright © 2020 V. Blake
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Tony Whitaker on 12/16/09 at 08:47 AM|
Interesting title as one can takes this either as either the mythological or the biological definition, but I like the latter seeing Da Vinci's famous figure ready for...whatever. Great piece of brilliant wordplay and imagery!
|Posted by George Hoerner on 12/16/09 at 02:12 PM|
Very good write Vince. I question if there will be any survivors though.
|Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/16/09 at 04:50 PM|
You had me going back to this quicksilver well several times and returning to Wikipedia at least twice. Thanks for the challenge, for the ride you took me on with this fine piece. That first stanza shocked my imagination awake and hung it out to dry only to be revivified by that last stanza. Fascinating piece, Vince. Thanks.
|Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/16/09 at 07:43 PM|
Familiar things are always happening, and humankind does not bother about most of them. It requires a very unusual mind to undertake the analysis of the obvious, and periods of tranquility are seldom prolific of creative achievement so there we are always mucking things up in the name of living or as some might say progress. Much enjoyed this work. Thanks.
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/17/09 at 05:29 PM|
Wonderfully original excursion into humour and the polluted world we all inhabit. Well worth the read, and glad to see it No. 1. Adds to favourites.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/17/09 at 10:51 PM|
Had to log in to tell you how much the "shotgun heart" pumping shells jumped out at me, loved the paint chipping off the eyes, the cardboard altar, the flavor of bleach lines, and especially reading this from the "I" voice. Brilliant.
|Posted by H.M Stevens on 12/18/09 at 04:21 AM|
agree. extraordinarily powerful. it makes you dizzy and sick, and exposes everything we all really are.