Functionaries, Again

13 Jun

Haunted by the ghost of Rimbaud leaking from an empty bottle, moving through a crowd of porcelain foot soldiers, hollow shells with blue rings of insomnia around the eyes–like savage lemurs in Madagascar, letting the conveyer belt do the work, finish the job even, I blow out the flame. In the dark I hear their moans. They sound like bits of paper set on fire, turning into black or grey ash. They sound like a Bosch painting. They sound like they’re buried alive in a mountain of worries and sludge, choking on the pyroclastic flow of ambition, waiting for the dogs of hell to either rescue them or chew on their intestines.


4 Responses to “Functionaries, Again”

  1. Anonymous 13/06/2007 at 2:33 PM #

    This piece is unbelievable. It’s all full of great lines. I know you reworked it cause I remember the original three years ago. I love this: “…like savage lemurs in Madagascar.” Outrageous.

  2. Lx 13/06/2007 at 3:14 PM #

    i reworked it.
    the functionaries have changed
    in three years.
    they’re uglier.
    but then…
    so am i,
    three years older.

  3. Janete 14/06/2007 at 10:03 AM #

    Poetic prose, very haunting, I like it !

    Great job, Lx !

  4. Lx 14/06/2007 at 11:58 AM #

    thanks janete.
    as always, you are too kind.

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