How The Finger Went Mad: Knuckle 1
Every night The Finger
wakes up shaking
despite the fact
that ever since the thing
that happened
happened
it’s been unable
to fucking
sleep
because sleep is a Beatlejuice House-shaped-cookie-jar
and that place from which The Finger’s recently escaped
is something angry, fueled by the fact
that it’s been built specifically not to love you,
tossing the cookie jar at the back of your skull
and accidentally missing
over and over again
by a goddamn fraction of an inch
The Finger remembers everything
from the unintentional foreplay
to ‘go time’
to being completely submerged
inside the dark circular pocket
of vortex’d doom
and everything after that
until exit
was like being buried alive
without the comfort of coffins
and the terrible knowledge
that it’s not dirt
that surrounds you
in this ground hole
It’s not dirt!
and this knowledge is sewn to electrons
which are sewn to the pure horror
of reluctant knuckles
sewn to a pair of disheveled Levis
and then sold to a mad fabric store
where its paralyzed sanity spends the rest of its nights
hanging from old fabric racks
coughing up dust
but not dust
Fuck! If only this shit could be……….
if only
it could be
dust!
The Finger pulls itself out of bed
and taps its way into the kitchen
seaking water
but instead of water it cuts
straight to the whiskey
The Finger’s cuticles weep
while the surrounding 4 other digits
mumbled shit like “Somebody’s being over-dramatic”
“We were there too” The Thumb splurts out
“and you don’t see us loosing our goddamn minds about it.”
“But you didn’t go inside!” The Finger screams
“You don’t know what it’s like in there!
There’s no electricity and walls can read minds
and it’s unnaturally warm because the furnace
burns human souls instead of things
like coal or back issues of US magazine
or wood!”
The Thumb refuses to argue
and The Finger has lost all attention spans
when it comes to The Thumb
because the nightmares have taken over
the asylum in his head where all these memories
of that one night sit in the game room
hiding their meds in the soft cheeks beside tongues
and jerking off
to old VHS tapes of Judge Judy
The Finger spends the rest of the night
trying to drink the madhouse into forclosure
while listening to Taylor Swift Jake-Gyllenhaal-break-up songs
cursing the state of modern romance
and hating the bleak world for being such
an ass
(to be continued………..)
Multiverse Johnson 