the shaman perched on
building-steps, black glass between his
nail-bitten fingers; lapping
quietly at
dreams.
"I'm always out of body,"
he says when asked.
what is he? I think. A traveling
salesmen bundled in ghost-thin
spirit? a
moving apparition, eating auras and
spitting demons?
grand, drugged-up
mess--living in a liminal
mind state.
between classes. wandering,
diving, swimming, falling
off edges and climbing
down
upward.
through misunderstanding, i had
deemed it
noise--bombast and unnecessary.
for what is misunderstood is
a growing, sour
hatred of
ourselves.
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Sometimes sober. Sometimes not. Always yours.
2 comments:
Hello, Sparrow!
You're aura eating shaman is straight out of the mystery show. Whoa! Spooky...
Oh! Btw...Happy Saint Patrick's Day!!!
lol yes. he's quite a fun character.
thanks! same to you.
and thanks for commenting.
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