This is a parable.
I know I'm not supposed to announce
whatever folly my unworthy fingers
might construct- and in the case that
I fail entirely, well, it's too late to say
this is a magazine ad. For perfume.
I can at least tell you this is not
a perfume ad.
I want to tell you all about the man
who falls in the river every night
(and, no, he is not Heraclitus so
it IS the same river even when
it's not
For our purposes, it is the same
river)
Some of us find comfort in that
sort of continuity while others dare
to dream
The man in the river never
remembers his dreams- it could be
because of the way is jolted awake
Instant Terror, Self Hatred, and
Stench clobbers him, **** dreams.
Except that day.
He woke up with a brocaded toe
clamped between his teeth and
fell instantly in love while the mouth
so far above the toe, it screamed
and screamed and scream
For the next 28 years the river dude
languished in a cell and spent each
of those years building a palace
in his mind for the brocaded
toed princess.
Naturally upon his release
he would be covered in brocade
as well, you see the man had gone
quite insane, meanwhile the toe
and the mouth did as well
Go insane.
What did it matter that he
never saw her face, save the
shrieking maw? and anyway
he knew all he needed to know
just by memorizing her foot
It turns out the bellowing lady
only had one shoe, a lovely one
at that and what did she need
with two?
It turns out the screaming lady had
only that one foot and the rest
of her was such a mess having
only one leg was a leg up
The river man was a *****
and an *******.
He never loved the one
legged lady but stupidly
fell in love with a shoe
which got him a long
prison sentence.
Love what he or she is
and not what he or she
could be- after all, they
gave you a chance.
Jack ***.