Shaken and Not Stirred

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXO-jKksQkM

When I hit bottom,
I thought it would be like
getting a spanking,
all rosy cheeks
and then a fast fuck.

"Au contraire mon frère."

The lightning never came.

Instead, a thick smoky ooze
filtered through the layers
of my instincts.

Contradictions
became paradoxes.

Languid thoughts
lavished themselves
as if basking
in a sense
of entitlement.

I broke
through the senselessness,
and my wisdom
became a wise cracking
dyslexic angel
who sat on my shoulder
offering proofs
for the existence
of dog.


I bark therefore I am.

On the mediocre plane,
Wittgenstein won out
and I stopped saying
anything at all.

On the Nitro Circus Plane,
I rolled out a hover-craft,
and like my father
leaned into it
to shift my wait.

I was shaken
and not stirred
to do anything.

I took up dubstep
and a modified form
of dynamic tension.

I followed dog
to the end of the world.

There was a bone
and a little house
with only one window.

And the dog
was sitting
in front of it
blocking the view.

runningturtle87