"FORCED ENTRY INTO THE NUBIAN PRETZEL WHIP..." by JTK.CA

"FORCED ENTRY INTO THE NUBIAN PRETZEL WHIP
(Dedicated to the [persistence of] memory
of Salvador Dalí (1904-1989) with a fruit
cocktail over a roaring fire of destruction
in the wake of a subatomic age)" by JTK.CA
Tad@NudistPoet.com
Copyright © JONATHAN TAD KETCHEN (JTK.CA)
http://NudistPoet.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Break the mold
I'm feeling old
Too predictable
I want to be
Not like I have been

I'd rather be
Feeling close to
Latent ideas swimming in a sea of mud
Uninhibited
Fuzzy little clothlike Weebles
Going for a spin in their family car
There they are!
Weeeeeeee!!
Ha! Ha! Ha!

Break the mold
I'm feeling quite too silly
Back to normal
Paranormal
Philosophical
Theological
Let's put God in a box again
And watch the box explode, leaving Him standing
Before our unbelieving eyes
Breaking all the ties to Nothing and
Nothing's brother and sister
Nowhere and Never

But soon Everything
Their first cousin once removed
Breaks in and binds my heart with chains of wax

And uninhibited little fuzzy clothlike Weebles
Rescue my heart from Everything
My heart's worst enemy's best friend
It's like wearing long underwear on a hot summer day
Or swimming naked in a sea of ice

I remember one of my high school friends
In the locker room
Wearing his Santa Claus underwear*

I remember a high school play and
A fellow student actor
Playing a woman--
Wearing a wig--
And scratching his nonexistent breast

I remember a certain girl in college
Peaking through the closed venetian blind
From behind it--
Plastered between the window and the blind--
And proceeding to hang from the chandelier--
A girl surreally plastered from watching
"Pink Floyd: The Wall"^

I remember myself
Leaping off the edge of imagination
Freeing the darkness within
Full of nonexistent excuses defending my behaviour.
And still (now and then)--
Long since having repented--
It's hard to forget something I rarely remember
But when I do
It makes me think how much Nothing really means

Break the mold
I'm feeling much too introspective in an extroverted way
Back to normal
Paranormal
Philosophical
Theological
Let's put God in a box again
And watch the box explode, leaving Him standing
Before our unbelieving eyes

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

* I wrote this poem in the early 1990's,
but this stanza took on a new significance
for me after my best high school friend,
Dan "the mighty tundra" Bibeau, died in a
car accident on December 2, 1994. Dan could
always make us laugh, and the Santa Claus
underwear was one prime example.

^ As you may have guessed, the "certain girl in college" was Abraxia.