Xenox Gallery

Gathering the hard green fruit of good and evil...

Created: Sunday, 28 September 2008 Written by *CAPTAIN_AUSTRALIA*
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For the Devil's bisexual wife.

The light is out and the air is heavy with the
Great Australian Dream, with its incompetence,
timidity, the two crucified skeletons, and the
searchers who could not hear me when I cried that
this practice of ritual hallucinogenic enemas is
our truer life.

I have been granted this harrowing despair
unsought by me and the abyss. In the hour before
dawn, the coldest hour, I feel my heart grow
heavy - anyone can suffer from loneliness in a pit
of ragged and dishevelled desolation. All that
saved me from horrors beyond horrors was a pencil
that drew a mirage in the wind.

The crimson-tinted dawn sits by our side casting a
spell over the stars with vertigo, and in it's
vulgar sight two figures writhe, but one extends
it's fingers to a sound like the crackling of
gravel. The dead stayed dreaming of a river that
cannot be crossed, while the stuttered revelations
of ecstatic souls were in the growing dusk of the
reticular activating system.

Our dark evil day on spread wing now arrives, for
Eternity is a a fatal spiritual psychosis. A
corpse wind howls and awakes from a plague of far
righteousness, as all fates hang in the balance.

The Japanese combine the word for psychosis with
the boisterous north wind, pretending to frown and
turn black in the darkest hole of their despairs.
They wax and wane. Many of them are dissolving at
intervals into the seed-field of thoughts which
are dank and wet, and low-bent.

The higher intelligence which without effort rules
the living and the many fragile illusions of
awareness responds to the principles that are cold
as insidious poisons. A Brave New World of
monstrous and invincible evil is watching the
violet-grey frost vapors of the human equation.
So I knew I had to eat all the rabid dogmas from
any list of particular evils.

An endless storm roars on the spiritual jukebox
that vibrates with the melody of their bones - a
grisly plot that reads like a noxious black smoke
of despair, and the birth of another Hell on earth
that stole our hearts away from the Great
Australian Dream - swept away by the tormented
shrieks of the criminally insane.

After being rejected on physical grounds from the
muffled cries and flutterings of creatures that
die in my subconscious, I was able to piece
together this bold, visionary idea that struggles
against the evil condition of coprophilia while
eating a diet of corrupt perversions.