The Monster's Genisis (--)

When I was a young man I remember patroling

Observing, through a dark open space, between glass cubit walls

Litanies of bodies frozen in their immortality for our entertainment

          It was art

          It was science

          It was a terrible thought

And I focused deeply, for what could have been years

For what has been years

On a the mummified scurry of red and blue railroads that brought all of our parts to life

         All the flesh shed away

         All the bullshit drilled off

         All the life that flowed and made us went for miles

And I saw, so firmly, this same core in winter trees and satellite roadmaps

So foundational I could have believed it to be everything

Until I drove across the map and climbed the trees and found no minds

          What minds?

          What souls?

          What Jared do you speak of?

Now, years later, The winter had come for me

And an icy wind blew over my naked face and stomped out that which I thought

Was a roaring fire, but revealed, only to be the shell of match flame

What are you, Jared A.D. Radtke?

I am a servant

I am a toiler of details who seeks perfection

I am a conscious, a moral calculator struggling to smiile

I am a hefty eye-high pile of social principles and right doings and justices

I am a yearning for completion, for stories untold to be told

I am a renowned fantasy of locomotive progression

          That is what you do... But what of Jared?

What of Jared?

What of you?

Tell me!

Tell me, you! You, reader of literature and poetry

High-minded aristocrat

So fucking articulate and untouchable

You, bleary-eyed liberal with all your cool books of thought

Munching on your hyper-fucking-organic corn and carrots

You, upright citizen, Jesus.... YOU!

Tie strung tight ready to suck affixated cock!

What

                      of

                                        you?

What if I were to tell you a gray tale

A gray tale of a gray boy

Of whom the world did nothing to...

                  and nothing for, either.
This boy was the creator's chalice
And this boy can't do math
And this boy listened to rage all night
And the boy resented the world for nothing
                  - as far as a boy could be concerned
And collapsed into fantasies
And found a modus operandi promising life eternal
And everything was for it

And when he realized reality insists upon the departure of roses and good luck charms
His fantasies promised to stay and made a pact
                  to always stay
The fantasies grew fangs
To clench departing roses and charms

Now the boy has lived for ten long years
With a monster on his back
Now a man, he is thanked for it every day,
And the Monstor too.

You Will Know Me at Midnight: You Will Know Me at Dusk

You know what I see when we sit here?

When the air navigates between us?

And you rattle all sorts of cagey places?

I know you, I do.

I've seen you on rock stages

In spikey percussions

In the gushes of blood and voice

spout out from the clouds deep into black yards

And you will know me when you learn to drill

And sink deep and forever

Into a single thread

And when you know how it feels to pluck that thread

To run it between your lobe's fingers

Than strum ferverously into heaven

You will know me and that you and I are in fact

Very...

Epiphany

The days have been walking

Deep wrinkles set heavy in their faces

As I have labored tirelessly 15 and plus hours

My brain's spokes a stuttering endlessness:

"Quiet!"

"Heat off!"

"Rolling!"

Which talent and gimmicks come next?

But this morning my conscious peaked out the window

Under slept but rested, I sat up

Letting my eyes defocus across the infinity of frosty planes

A thick cake of tranquility

Then, I knew finally,

Why we shan't toil ourselves over pass time labor