Richard King Perkins II
Barbarian Crossroads You’ve repressed the place of embersfallen from a planet of waterand miscast light;random, dirty….malleable—lampreys whipping in the midst ofa miscreant moon at a barbarian crossroads,blackest black upon fadest yellow. And yet a stillness exits from the oceanto steady the quiver in our bodies. You are the orb that tides my plasmin goredescended from alien skiesand I’m the fellated surf and foamat the intersection of our lost forms;where the earth has grown febrile and senileforgetting how it first created lifefrom its inert, loveless self. My Thoughts are Elsewhere I try not to listen to the pastbecause it’s distorted and muffled. The woman in my minddestroys her own nameand stands upon it like a jackal. She must happen;a person with a slim midriff,bereft shoulders and earmuffs. My self-censoring delusionsare palm fronds that hypnotize. There is never an obvious methodof escaping from escape. The cries and whispers of paroxysmare heardin what have become my best years. A violent pulse identifies her.Her residueappears briefly across my face. You frown,chew the air noting decay in the drywall but unable to clean upthe mess in my head. Solitary Glisten I can’t emptythe floating smearof angel clinging to my hands but you remainan extraordinary stranger offering silenceand genetic disease. The invisible selfyou’ve been looking for is hiding in mirrors and solitary glisten. Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL, USA with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart, Best of the Net and Best of the Web nominee whose work has appeared in more than a thousand publications.