Thursday 12 April 2012

Pharma-Con-Artistry: a polemic/poetic response to 'The Rhetoric of Drugs' and other such wafflings (draft 0.75)

Attempting an emetic response towards the general state of being in everyday society. Digging an escape tunnel from the quotidian death camp? Who is that Other on the motorbike, leaping upwards and outwards on the wings of a Valkyrie? Who assigned that role to them?

Seemingly left out from the selection process then,
Sitting in the corner, slowly melting into the carpet
And dissolving, slowly, slowly,
Droplets bleeding into and then through the floor.
Flooding a valley belonging to mites and motes,
Dust collects on the edges of the throat.
Gazing at one's reflection in a dried-out cracked hole,
Former puddle, now bone.
A temple built from entropy and inertia,
Peristaltic feelings pour from within to without,
From her to eternity.
A litanous sea of rousing nausickle plenitude.
Viscously we dissect the problem, excising any right-doing,
Setting it down in a Petri dish by a radiator.
Intravenous questioning proposes to solve mankind's culture problem.
Injecting what is cultured by pharmacists and arms magnates
Sweetens the pill (colour variable) and propels us
To where infinity crosses itself.
It casts the shadow of a shadow, outside the city walls.
The gates can withstand a barrage of light
But buckles at the merest whisper of the dark.

The symptoms of the Other:
Narcopower.
Narcopoetics.
Narcomancy.

These are terms that stand out like advertisements, only the kind whose gimmick you can always remember, as opposed to the product itself.
A camel in sunglasses.
Three frogs riding a crocodile.
Ewan McGregor has given up beer, butter and milk.
The gimmicks are flavourless so that you can't taste the structure when it hits your tongue.

The final solution could be to tie a tapeworm around your upper arm and pour in some language; pure, unadulterated, not cut with any of that dead lexicon which has been pushed on us, from salted pillar to last post since trips began. The text will hallucinate if it has been mixed right, although the manner of these visions is as yet undecided.

Grind up fossils.
Smoke them.
Exhale.
See the spectre unfold in the air
As it unfolds within your lungs.