every moment

was meant to be yummy

delicious

delivering

all manner

of sweets

and goodies

melting

in eye-rolling ecstasy

on the tongue

bursting open

under the weight

of teeth, masticating,

eagerly integrating

the flavour

of each and every atom

exploding

in an ecstatic mishmash 

of taste and colour

as they come

—a never-ending feast

of chunky rainbows

and cotton candy clouds

washed down

in gigantic, plastic movie cups

filled with the neon dew

of never-ending mountain streams

beaming as they run, gleeful,

down from the sugar-frosted peaks

all of it

meant for the singular destination

of our one and only tummy

leaving us

forever satiated,

impossibly glowing,

and driving our spirit

into a frisky, frenzied, unedited, perpetual

animation reel

—a ‘rolling-on-our-backs-in-the-field

snow-angels-making

roller-coaster-taking

triple-backflip-into-the-water’

FIT

Of

FUN EXPLOSION

BUT

as every kid

expanded into

‘grown-up wondering what the hell happened’

knows

SOMETHING went down

SOMEWHERE along the line

—the supply chain got hijacked,

became the unassuming victim

of some…

…some…

…what?

gang of delinquents and their ill-fated hijinks?

invisible robed figures lurking in the background?

insecure interns with unconscious, Machiavellian intentions?

whoever it was

i’m sure

they’d be ashamed of themselves

now

if they knew what they were doing,

or did,

or where the whole thing

was really going

but HOW?

how could they be?

the fact that we’re all ‘playing’

some ‘high-stakes’ game of Monopoly

on a Sunday afternoon in purgatory

implies, by default,

a suspension of disbelief

so sound

we’ve all forgotten

that we are indeed

perched on the edge of our seats

in a darkened theatre

ass-cracks exposed

for all the world to see

sure

you could say

it’s the nature of the jawbreaker

to simply ‘not give a fuck’

but even then

you’d still be thinking

inside

the ‘rules of the game’

implying

that there was, indeed,

some THING

that exists

to give a ‘fuck’ about

the jawbreaker,

you see,

knows nothing but

endless layers,

endless varieties of flavour,

endless taste adventures

for all

—no core but more candy!

forever

FOR GIVING

never

FORGETTING that you can’t

GET ANYTHING

let alone HOLD ONTO

something

that simply never stops coming

so of course it went with ‘them’!

of course it offered no resistance

to having its course re-aligned

and all of its ‘resources’ floated

into the creation

of their massive, megalithic

castles of candy—invitation only!—

surrounded

by Sunshine moats

bobbing pastel marshmallows

all of it

drifting lazy in the haze

of the sugar-dust daze

they spend their days

breathing

and coated in

—it didn’t even notice!

FUN EXPLOSION

FUN EXPLOSION

FUN EXPLOSION

—that’s ALL it knows

policy

pretence

philosophy

meaning

—none of these

even REGISTERED with it

let alone

such ‘things’

as

hijinks

or

subterfuge

or

conspiracy

or

tyranny

or ANY

of the other

ridiculous business

imposed on it

by all of us kids

grown large enough

to FORGET

the taste of candy

to begin with

really, what can we expect?

when you’re nothing but

100% pure Peruvian sugar

you just do your thing

completely oblivious

to the growing chagrin, bemusement, bafflement, madness, ambiguity

of all of us—every class of ‘consumer’ & ‘producer’—going bananas around it

day out and day in

it’s true

some of us

eat cigarette butts & sawdust

for breakfast, lunch & dinner

while others

are lucky enough

to get our dog food and ritalin covered

wondering

just WTF is going on

as we complain

and gripe

and grumble

bent over 25hrs a day

in leaky rubbers

and duct tape suspenders

digging

in fields of sewage and offal

while co-workers drop around us

and don’t get up

and no one lifts a finger

because

we’re all too afraid

to upset the slaves

WE

keep ‘electing’

and who

WE

keep blaming

for everything

even still

we remain

endlessly curious

as to whether

the faint outlines

of those massive castles

beyond the sugar dust mountains

—those fortresses of beguilement

we’re not supposed to look at

but spy, nonetheless,

from the corner of our eye

exist

at all

and if they do

are indeed to blame

or in fact played some part

in the so-called subterfuge

of the stultifying,

deadly boring

monotonous drudgery

of the never-ending board game

none of us

are allowed

to quit ‘playing’

Image: wacomka