Rex Vulgaris

[Sepia]

and

we were dying as we were alive, a hollowed heart reeking of intent with feet walking a road paved with gold and good intentions. We were zombies, in a new upgraded version, living our lives within predefined parameters. We wore our sweet mistakes and it was a while, first the growing up, the the beginning of something new and then we got the sensation of growing old but we were still there, we were still here and we were losing friends rapidly as we sat with them listening to music and smoking, staring into ourselves and our years, memories and there's people that almost every day say that change isn't always good and it worries me because they're in the administration because change can't best be described within good or bad, it is a completely different animal.

We are stuck in time but we don't know where time is, our hearts are filled with the sorrow of our earth dying and as we're on a local cactus up in the mesas of america, we hear the ancient drums, we hear our forefathers, we hear the story of the beginning and we see the end and the drums are gathering at the harbors, men and women, children but no pets stand beating the drums and we see our own faces as we lavish hearing the squeeking of dolphins and their dark master spanning the oceans, filling the air and the sun is up in a sort of twilight mood- broody and unchanging, feels like august-september but still not. We stand there as we realize that the sun sets and the sea is bathed in its radiance and from the deep he comes

master of us all, massa had a nap and now he's back and we hear ourselves cry out tekeli-li as we merge into more than what we were, we feel definition of fate spread its beautiful wings around us and we are revealed with a truer purpose than what we had ourselves discovered and we are beautiful and serene in our form. We begin to build, erecting towers, following plans in complete silence as contentment fills us, we were the first, we were the first into the new fold, we heard and heeded the drums first and it was us who called him, it will be us that can vanquish him again should the need arise- we are fulfilled where we are, happiness something we could have described it as once but it's not there-

it's not now. We are now, the now. We are happening, finally, we feel the sun and it tastes like saccharine but it's the sun, man, it's the sun. We bathe in it as we erect the towers that will connect to portals, that will connect to something else and the whole family will come together. Papa Legba  gives us the orders as we build and with him he has two men, thought of as the greek and the arab. They observe and are hard for the eye to catch, shimmering inside creation. They retained our former shapes and for every day passing they grow more solid and we hope they will join us in the now.

PK Dick said it didn't end and we are reminded of his words as we are of those from Oppenheimer, a man creating change, becoming death, shatterer of worlds. The words from india predicted perhaps his invocation of it, the dawning of a new era, changing the rules entirely.

Here they stand, the two vulgar kings, Olaus Wormius and Abdul Al-Hazred. They stand and tell us of our doom, their presence a violation. Inside us we know they are right but we do not think too much about it, we dredge forward and we are comfortable in front of the kings.