Thin White Line

collision, head on with reality staring blankly into oblivion, shining wake ward nightmare creeping on haunting every wind embankment, yellow springtime shaking naked in her crevice, moonshine never wasted much time on anything but itself and making plans for primates around a fire, dancing Potomac River riders on the filtered remembrance of time, circular as ever, ringed natural birth before being subjected balefully to brutal bias of pristine sliding glass doors on metal tracks caked in Monkton pollen, the ponies in the back field whinnying with the crippled toads and chiggers, sacred shiver of cold down the browned spine, worker back and hoed the little line from lip to septum, the bull horn briny sooted stood in the doorway and barked madly at the street lamps, the lighters at their toil resting knee in soil and praying into hands who pick up a Christian signal, radio waves melting curiously as clocks over dead horses, beaten by ladies' purses, screaming tirades about womanhood and manhood and the great good of our prosperity, trading hatred in at the bank and resuming commune with nature, outdoor reverie lifting the soul to silence, perseverance through the darkest part of night is just before the morning, early warning crop circles the red dawn into paraplegic delight, seizing homestead and copper pot, waving pick ax and scythe down the bloody hallway, stained white wall paper creeping up at the edges stares me down reproachfully for making sins out of my senses, the senseless edging of dying wars and feeding men to Mars to colonize the moon, Newt Gingrich announces he will withdraw from the race next week, a preemptory voice and last attempt at breaking up the party, to forever leave it cleaved in two, a clove of garlic pressed under a butcher's blade to make the skin easier to remove, and pressed into pounds of uncooked meat to make the Polish sausage, metal grinder gripped to the counter, pigs' intestines slithered over the mouth piece for the casing, and cooking in the oven in a belly of sauerkraut, served with horseradish and dijon mustard, this gustatory delight puts Saja in a mind for eating, sitting in the tub reading Poe's dissertation on yellow-bellied frog legs are halfway between chicken wings and Chesapeake blue crab back fin meat, the hollow bones brittle enough to eat and choke on pleasantly, I chew ice while we're sitting at Half Pints, waiting for our half-price Tuesday bleu burgers, cajun onion rings a bell with hot wings, can you tell I'm hungry? I was so healthy today with breakfast and lunch, and then I killed it all with Mickey D's for dinner, the thinner I get the more I think I looked better thicker, I've been tricked into sinking to the level of hamsters on treadmills, the softening will of butter in the microwave is soon all melted in the plate and I have to scrape it off and try to shape it back together, once someone knocks you down that low, you will never bounce completely back again and part of it is getting older and becoming more self aware, but part of it is being wary of a past that's ever present, the future sloping down the barn roof on Old Harford Road, where you cross into Baltimore County and the speed limit jumps to fifty, the seven sister turns past the Bonaparte Mansion, the Ripken Estate, mail gate delivery an Ace Ventura package all damaged and it sounds broken, you've been had.