His presence presents the essence of the highly fanatical
posture proposing imminent threat he projects
the fantastical pretence of all he pretends.

Poking with pointed insistence, joking about coincidence
and the way it’s double-jointed fingers, arthritic and disjointed
feeling for the ointment in a jar by opened door creaking.

Self-absorbed by reflections and representations
meaning implied by infected inflections that shrink and swell
racing down middle of road to hell in a hand basket.

Tracing broken lines laid out before him, driven to the edge
of the event horizon, framing the hole that is home to his casket.

Forgiven for blaming all but the guilty, not unlike Quilty in the novel Lolita
loving the one he is hurting, doing a version of aversion therapy, a vision of virgin territory’s immaculate blanket of pure white snow confection.

A fairy-story with a sting in its tale told by bells ringing at midnight, pealing layers away one by one: smoking gun stealing unspoken prayers.

Tailors show up holding tape-measures in damp hands.

Drunken sailors look for sunken treasures, seek exotic pleasures, dream erotic visions, depressed by pushy pressures down under water deep, embracing the perversions of solipsistic decisions.

Snaking down long padded hall turning round every corner.

Insinuating numerical challenge by way of a question that defies all description, waiting for him to concoct a solution.

Locked out of the answer safeguarded by the protection of cryptic encryption.

He strikes up a pose in a state of repose – striking a certain chord in the skull.

Trying not to suppose or assume, leaving plenty of empty room he’s let go of deceiving history and design a solution to the impenetrable mystery, start a revolution, or resign to the numb of his contagious cancer and the problem it poses, flicking at his head a long stick of chalk like a finger sweeping past face fast as clock’s second hand sucks Time and air from the room into slowly receding scarcity underscored by straight streak scratched on blackboard background backdrop to snowing dust, black shadows ink while velocity keeps speeding.

Calculating numbers of advanced mathematics, drumming digits on countertop.
Demanding self-respect in the form of resolved problem – conundrum solved – absolved in summation – confident in certainty… in the entity of absolution… and like his head on impact under stress overload… unlocked in shock.

TRINITY 015The code exposed, but still not cracked.

– Copytright 2016, ORP

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