BOOK EXCERPT: Flames on the Horizon
From The Subconscious Unthinking Show (release TBD)
Long stretches of the Texas highways. Cut off the noise of talk that surrounds your ears, the sounds of angry oils vaporizing to cut lungs, the sounds of delirious complaint, the sounds of rattling metal, the sounds of internal flames. Quench those if you can or another flame burns hotter, the flame of frustration and anger and somehow a regret of return. They can’t understand, they don’t know how to do it. Loud sighs, prefer wine to whines. Among the smells black money, the smell of deep earth that no human was meant to smell, something alien, underground molten men with molten ideas surfacing to green pastures that burn for our pleasure. Visit as an alien, see those derricks grazing the empty desert as monuments to a separation of earth and the earth’s black blood. Bow down. The weight of deep pits gravity pull fingers down to keys, it’s how you write, it’s how you bleed. So witness: look out into the dark to disappear. See sea of black you’d like to drown in. Dappled flashing as the glowing antennae of deep sea anglers, and you’re surrounded. Everywhere else is black. You fear to see those big black eyes, those teeth like shattered rock. You’re so deep. So deep the light can’t reach. Something may graze your toes. You may be surrounded by a winding net of of things that slither. Grotesque and ugly monsters that hide below the light. They may see everything, but still see nothing for a long time when they’re alone. They see you, but you don’t see them. Breakaway from that. Bright lights off the highway shining on quiet equipment. Swim. If you can come up to the surface and see. Flames on the horizon. Big burning torches burning endlessly, lighthouses for desert wanderers looking for heat in the desert chill. Light attraction of the anglerfish. Flames on the horizon give an unnamed inspiration. Something to bathe in without getting burned, like sitting on the moon, like surfing on the clouds. Flames on the horizon.
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