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jonathan beale.

Standing by the ancient foundations of a vast house By: Jonathan Beale

The idea was as infinite as the universe – as was understood. That we understood – Ovid’s voice still remaining as the painted walls. They stood, worked, and lived by stone and sweat to grow upward. The day was - as they are now - full of failure, anxiety, and trepidation. The men’s muscle eager-to-please – make homes; make safe haven – For deities of flesh or deities of the mind – that are tangible: As they watch them with sharpened eyes; drawing fault – to break their psyche. For the next - new beginning ‘as all beginnings are:’ Now, leafy parkland, where the dogs regularly do their doglike business; Unaware of their ancestors, and unaware of the need to know. And the children too, evolve into the muscled ‘them’ to break into the unvisited days. Evolving a new past. Smoke and dust remain. The ruins grow to the surface – For breath. For light. For reason. What once was out - has seeped through to the inner sanctum – And, the outer flesh to has grown among the weeds & bracken –Now drowning Life, osmosising its way through - as the sword cuts through the long grass, the long vowels lost in the wallpaper and the shouts of laughter swallowed up in the dried plaster before it fell, the foundations remain - marking the statement –of the once lived in… Simply marking the air lived and lost but somewhere in the cosmos And life goes on – until Yesterday.

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Profile for Chris Talbot-Heindl

The Bitchin' Kitsch February 2015 Issue  

The Bitchin' Kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. It exists for the purpose of open...

The Bitchin' Kitsch February 2015 Issue  

The Bitchin' Kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. It exists for the purpose of open...

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