Initial Thrust

by John
(London, England)

The future frightens me
puts the fear of Christ in me,

the past belongs to the fall into
the hall of mirrors where monsters
crack walnuts

the present shuts my mouth and opens my eyes
to the future, the lies and when everyone dies.

I am if I am at all still in the fall waiting for ogres.

When I was younger
I wanted a beard,
never got one,
weird.

it's about the wanting not needing
not starving but feeding anyway

I've read,
under the blankets in bed until dawn
worn out the torchlight
my eyesight too.

Are you out there?
do you wait where the lamp casts no glow?

is this why the future haunts me with questions
because I know nothing?

I am the beauty and beast that feeds on the beauty
somebody shoot me
adrenaline kills me
the present wills me
to live.