Watching master
television w/lingering allurement triggers a hungry static that brings a steady
growth to the Sunda moss and the thick, rubbery channels networking my brain.
An electric
charge bridging mirrors and defining my realities ~
And I sink in.
Sink deep within
myself to the maddening majesties of the hypnotic snow and the constant background
noise.
The voice.
The noise so
unapologetically cracking; capturing the bits of psyche left-over from the echoes
of my waking dreams.
And I sink deep.
Deeper than my hidden sins and she says . . .
Welcome my
friend,
Teevee
retreat for king, yes
Tv retreat my
friend
Tv re-treat
you stay.
And I thought
about her sweet madness intoxicating the insides of my bones. One last time I
thought about her calming solitude and this netherworld which I guess I’ll have
to call home.
My home.
Victor Millan
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