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This writing was accepted for publication
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cc&d (v232) (the May 2012 Issue



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After the Apocalypse
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Occupy Mind Street

måx keanu

    We’re that “AH, HA!” moment personified, but mummified

    We’re the ones who shush at you over the theatrically bona fide

    We’re the creators of characters that cuss at you, rush you, and fuss over you

    We give you kisses in slobbering, smoldering romantic plentitude, or nasty raspberry lippy attitudes

    We delve in everyone’s heavenly bliss, in life’s stinking piss and oh yes, we create that dastardly... hiss, hiss, hiss

    We’re the trusted bookmark to your lives, the mark that survives, we’re the behind the scenes scribes, the lonely artist who forward dives then always imbibes

    We know the lovers of your wives, where affection survives, all the hidden knives, how you strive to rise, how you cunningly devise, how you reprise desire’s fires, we see lives in tumult’s spires, we hear the chorus, the chants and the choirs

    We’re the measurers of the popular, the jocular, as we see deep with our literary binoculars, we’re the hocus-pocus astrologers, the grand inquisitors and time’s horologers

    We’re the smart kids on your blocks, we know words to knock your socks off, we preach or teach you how to boff, when to scoff, when to remain silent or when to feign a cough

    We devise a human stage built pliable, of the tryable, of the sighable, of the cryable, in luxurious sable, in fortitude debatable, our goal through... is the human heart triumphal

    We’re mean machines of words and moments and angles and methods and plans and manly helping hands, of coy loving women waving fans, of roaring and raving grandstands, we’re the originators of political intrigue pages in all foreign lands

    We’re ready to wrangle with the Cyclops of angst, or cranky tellers in banks, rough and roaring Sherman tanks, and the one percent greedy who should give thanks

    We’re the reason you wake to willingly explore, try a French whore, are shaken to the core, know how to hunt boar, build a Dutch door, or know trivia concerning the Peloponnesian War

    We’re the butchers and prophets between the pages first and last, in words that resemble your pasts, college blasts, beauties contrasts, witty lambasts, loquacious forecasts, we’re tellers of life’s right and wrongs, its roughs and rasps

    We’re the smile givers, frown makers, chuckle artists, memory motivators, sensory denouncers, genius detonators, encyclopedic innovators, emotion activators

    We’re the movement of the underground, over ground, above ground, around and around, we’re spellbound in coffee grounds, we’re of minds so god-damned sound

    We’re Hansel and Gretel, Mutt and Jeff, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Odysseus and Penelope, Cagney and Lacy, Mork and Mindy, Hester and Arthur, Wallace and Gromit, Hubie and Bertie, Rhett and Scarlett, Antony and Cleopatra, Mulder and Scully, Herman and Doretha, Jesus and Mary... we’re always between the pages.

    We’re the imagined crowd on your street, the spirit of your future neighborhood, we put the hero on your pedestal, the heroine in your heart...

    With mere words we fly all who are willing to accompany us across the vast sky of chance and circumstance, towards the treasures of mind in this wonderful life....

    For to truly Occupy Mind Street... is to be the writer of destinies....



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