posted on July 3, 2007 at 5:57 am

in the nullification
at the zero mark
lying unconscious in a temple
in a jungle
looking for intuition
at the bottom of a deep well
where he lay
in his mind
so far down
under himself
into everyone
at the base level
where they say all knowledge is
but not to know
but to be
to actualise it
love in action
where everything is joined
the loftiest eagle
the crawling king cockroach
the mighty emperor
the old drunk man
the loveliest panther
the horriblest pig
the fair maidens
the hideous crones
the grass
the trees
the flowers
the seas
somewhere the intersection
an easy place where all things may rest
the lowest common denominator maybe
before pulling on your mantle
here dwelt intuition
for everything has intuition
if they could but heed it
but also a false intuition
that says i am your intuition!
but is a fraud
and then can you tell them apart…?
the false intuition has no intuition
but in all other ways is cunning
it can imitate intuition perfectly
like a photo of a sandwich
you cant get anything out of it
and many prophets become undone by false intuition
and many gamblers lose their shirts
and many women who may have a good intuition become lost
unable to trust either one
now the killer had a huge false intuition
and its voice could mimic his real flashes of insight
and this false intuition was so swollen up
with its own importance
it was inexorable
and had drowned the real thing in its clamour
and had sprouted even new false intuitions
who bayed n howled in the killers head
demanding consideration
and he had become dismayed
and ignored them all
but now…
now in this easy place
this quiet deep warm place
the false intuitions suffocated
or were dislodged
or worn away
slowly his damaged intuition awoke
to be healed
he could suss things out now
he could only tune into the real thing
he was online and ontrack
and now he was outbound
outbound and rebounding
but getting back out and up
was not that easy
he realised he was walking down a hallway
passing a few familiar doors
he could not place….
he was moving so slow
like he was entombed in transparent molasses
and it took all his will to keep moving
to keep pushing on
millimetre by century
so slow was he going
so long did it take
and when he had finally run out of will
and energy
and could not guess where he was
when he was ready to give up
and sink into slowness forever
he heard a sound
oh such a familiar sound
he hadnt heard for ages
like another world away
and he oh so wanted to hear a little more
so he pushed against slowness with all his might
and he made headway
and the sound got closer
it was ….
it was a piano
yes it was someone playing a piano
it was kind of what his father called a boogie woogie
something about this thought made him smile
and he started to gain ground on the slowness
a door loomed large at the end of the hall
actually there was a door to the right as well
and it was open
why it was the door to the outside world…!
and he looked at that outside world
a world of summer lawns and sprinklers
and long dusks with families sitting outside in the garden
and everything seemed so simple there
and his intuition spoke up and said
this would be nice
and he stepped through the door a little
he was on a little balcony with steps going down
to the front lawn which sloped to meet the street
he looked down and saw he had grown young
his beard was gone and he was youthful once more
and he stood there marvelling at this simple world
this uncomplicated summerplace
everything still lay ahead
he had time in fucking spades again
the temple
his men
it seemed like a dream to him
his intuition spoke again
this would be nice but…..
and it said no more
troubled slightly he stood there
already a shadow cast across this eden
and he knew his intuition had spoken the truth
but he had free will to ignore it
to over-ride its advice
the piano was still tinkling away behind the otherdoor
but he wanted to somehow forget that now
oh lord it was 1971 and he was 17
oh how light his step and spring in his stride
he walked down the steps
his blue mazda was parked there
his old tiny mazda with the column gear stick
the tinny radio was on
blaring out heart of gold or tiny dancer
he jumped in
turn the keys and hes off
down the road
into archibald street
up to dryandra
and away
driving round and round
listening to everysong on the radio
that burst out in living colour before his ears
and hes driving n driving
and are there other cars on the road?
he never notices
and hes driving round kingston n barton
ha ha theres the old offices where i will oneday work
he thought
a confusing thought
but an amusing thought
how this olde experienced him will change things
this time around
and theres the shop i bought toasted tomato sandwiches
and yoghurt and the canberra times
and i was sitting at work reading the illuminati books
and at night i went home and worked on music
and everyone except my 2 brothers thought my music was awful
and i started to smoke dope before during n after work
and everything became hilarious
but thats all a long time in the future or past
whichever way you wanna look at it
points on a circle maybe
reconcilable contradictions perhaps
thats just humanspeak
it aint like that to a dog or a whale
(i guess)
for now
the real now
in this story
our hero the killer
is 17
recently turned 17 from 52
and boy thats a nice jump to make
like a thousand years of yoga
and a thousand years of swimming
and a thousand shots of botox
and a thousand gallons of skin gloop
and a thousand plastic surgeons all a sewing
and a thousand diets
and a thousand sit ups for a thousand times
yes youth feels so good
this would be nice but…
said intuition again
sooner or later
he parked his car at the kingston shops
and he had a walk
there was a record shop tucked away
that sometimes stocked rare or imported records
in the window was a pair of white faces
on the cover of an album
the album bore the title t.rex
he stared at the face on the left
powdered with theatrical makeup
surrounded by flowing curls
the man looked like a greek tragedian crossed with a faun
he stared and stared at the face
it seemed like it was trying to tell him something
it seemed the lips were moving
he could hear a voice
he could hear lovely music
be like you could the voice sang
this would be nice but…
sang his intuition
he turned and headed for the car
immediately the slowness oppressed him again
after a million years he fought his way to the car
he took off down the road
back towards his house in lyneham
back towards that other door
to the piano
to give up this new found youth
to help his friends
to seek his destiny



43 Responses to “orpheus in the undercoat”

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