WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? by Leon Martell

What are you looking at? Well? Not that hard a question. Start at the shoes. Work your way up … pants to the belt. Stop eating ! I’m talking to you. Little rat, or what’s the other domesticated rodent. Gerbil… chewing. “Gng gng gnging” because their life is short and somewhere in their little brain the size of a split pea.. they know it…. So they eat… we, however, wear the vest, the coat, the tie…. Note the tie tack 3rd Cavalry… an elite corps. To the throat, the chin and on to the teeth. The mustache trimmed with the #3 clipper head…. Get back here…. I’ll tell you when it’s time to leave. On this or whatever plane of existence you chose to occupy – and it is your choice—. The question stands, what are you looking at? This (opens his arms) has been assembled from a diverse and eclectic experience… brought together from the ends of the earth for one purpose. The exposure and eradication of irritants… of flaws, of ticks and nits that suck the blood from the body that nourishes us. Are you a tick? No? You’re more than a nit…. The egg which if not crushed will hatch into a tick… the disease ridden blood sucker… So what are you looking at… Sweetie? Shall we dance? Shall we go to the hospital and visit a sick friend? Shall we perform a ritual of mortification, cleanse the spirit of whatever sub cuticle dirt which may lurk? The voluptuousness of sterility. Once that can is opened, it foams white and luxurious like a father’s semen on a pillow case. Shall we go for a ride? For a closer look… in a different light… the sun is setting over the sandstone ridge. The bulb in the steam room needs changing. How many of us would it take? Venture a guess. DON’T be inaccurate. These are times of frigidity… if you lose an eye, they’ll give you a bottle cap and tell you to wait your turn. (He puts bottle cap in his eye like a monocle.) SO, what do you see? With the eye you have left?

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