Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: metaphor

October 28, 2021

Filming a Commercial for My Soul

boxed in by the sunlight as eyelids fold over in slow motion, rewind, freeze framed,

replay, redo, restitution sitting on the couch waiting for the call that we’re ready for you, come on in,

don’t be shy, don’t frighten easy, but look as if you do, it’s a lot sexier when you fake fear than an orgasm,

but probably less effective in the long run,

past its prime, past date, rotate, find another place on the shelf, in the back with all the other forgotten

items stuck to the abyss to be discarded at some point, one day, whenever we get around to it,

recycled into a lithium powered wash cycle rinsing off grime that never wants to leave, sit, stay, rollover for the cameras,

just don’t look directly at the lens, don’t pout,

looked scared, then smile

October 27, 2021

Collision Course

all moments spent looking for something shiny while thinking about the dullness thumping at the corner of my cranium going sixty miles per hour, steaming off into a night made glorious by ingloriousness, jonesing forlorn looks at the ticking arms spread thin to embrace the all encompassing, head collision with a rock piled high and cemented in sterling aluminum spat out of the core of a planet too tired to say no anymore, won’t it look dazzling, siempre deslumbrante

October 26, 2021

Plunging for a Fix

edible dreams made too loud by mosquitoes fluttering through cartons of abandoned milk

filled to the hilt of some glass far too half-empty

yet still seen as too full, plastered from last nights barhopping shenanigans spelled backwards

and then left out in the sun to ferment from glowing, shiny metals

conducting airs of superiority and sophistry from high above and low, down low,

ivory chiseled to look like a god smoking cigarettes from a balcony, step back,

don’t jump,

plunge