He entered into a place where everyone sat before him

He entered and entertained

Each moment moving in pattern to the next moment moving

In unfamiliar pattern weaving the time

Still

A pattern

To this moment

In this time

Where everyone sat before him

Waiting

They are

In front of him

As naked as they intend to be

He spews forth

Before them

Upon this page where he stands

His blood phlegm semen

His heart

His life

Before them emptied into this space

Into this time

They watch

Something within wanting more

No thought of their yielding to themselves the meaning of his actions

He speaks to them of

His self

His history

Those other momentss preceding this

That have brought him here at this time

They watch without questioning

Without asking of themselves

Those moments in their own lives that have brought them to this

He knows there is a tyrant in the world

He envisions an ogre with fiery eyes and wild hair and a jewel encrusted staff

That will soon break through the wall behind him

Bludgeoning him into a pool of his own blood

They wait with anticipation for this demon to enter

Never thinking the tyrant is within them

At this moment

Waiting to bludgeon each one of them into pools of their own blood

Into a life restrained by their own tyranny

He offers each of them a mirror so they may view this pattern better

We don't want mirrors, they think

We want more

What they want and what they need are not the same, he thinks

He has a lot of gall, they say to themselves

So as to cut themselves off from themselves

They are as naked as they intend to be, he realizes

Knowing that the tyrant has struck

©1992 - Stanley M. Fried