What can YOU say in six sentences?
The sound came eddying out of the canyon, up from ten miles below the earth's crust, and I heard my voice and the millions of others rasping and mewling as last bits of flesh melted from us, to be stirred in a pot and made soup for the Kings past the Styx where Charon got jacked--some say by Ike Turner--and our raft diverted toward Bedlam.
I am a ghost up here on the earth with the millions, and I heard a guy say once that ghosts have the best of it really, especially the ones who went looking for love in all the wrong places and wound up in Barstow alone, staring up at the sun, as if that's where she'd gone without so much as good-bye; death came as a favor to them, after all, and it's now a done deal, and all that is left is to fly off toward Bethlehem laughing.
See, all tricks spoon corn out of Sweet Sally's shit and would like to believe that they eat just like kings.
But the guy missed the point, because ghosts do not die, and the tears that they shed are for sundry tomorrows that wind up in Barstow sun-blinded, where memory points through the desert to some cheap cafe where you were to meet her and hire a car that would take you--at last!--to Nirvana.
And meanwhile, flesh melts...
And I can't help but wonder if flesh was the least of the problem, and if roadmaps exist toward the day when men cede belief to breathe the free air that was given the morning they first stepped out of the trees...