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The Time Has Come
That's not how it happens,
I babbled.
The gate keeper, David, with his smiling teeth
simply stared straight into my yellow eyes and said,
"Yeah, you're right."
I wasn't ever much for belief.
(what was anyhow?)
"Yes. This is how it is."
And isn't not having a belief
a belief
in and of
itself?
"We're all just swaying lilies. One way
or another."
His stupid salmon colored shirt was hurting my eyes as he
proceeded to sprinkle the gasoline over my restrained body. Even my scattered
belongings were starting to get lathered with the oily fluid.
That shit smells,
I babbled.
"Everything smells", he said,
"it's just a matter of how
it smells."
Heh.
He then dropped the empty canister. Lit a match. Threw it at me.
And it smelled
like roasted
pork chops.
