Truman Testo

(Closing trapped in a body tethered with viscera, sinew and skin)

Suffocate, look around
For the keys out the door, driving
To the crest of the tallest hill
Where the trees like verses will spell:

Wither the ones which grow upon the branches of others
Held when the wind does blow, fall when the earth does shudder
Thrive, those which grow straight and carry their own weight
People gather at home as the sun goes down
So I drive to town
And park on the street
An array of windows lights up in mass
An electric glow
Thrown into the night from behind the glass
The signal repeats
Identical charms for the families inside
Faces I know
With sockets of coal and diamonds for eyes

The man on the street
He says "As above, so below"
I ask him his name
He says "About that, son, I don't know
but I can tell you the name of that TV show."

So I drive back home
Coils, the origin lines
Traced from the fossil bowels of history's flesh
Burn in my wall as a sign

White heat from the curve of my spine
Writhes in a spiral contrived by the left hands
Of men without wives
Burns in my floor as it shines

What's inside spills outside
The living filth convulsing in my head
What's outside slips inside
(My breath) Contracts and expands
(Through skin) Of a serpent seen red

So I go to bed

(The trees lay down) A sweet sad psalm
(The kid drones out) Nothing heard, nothing wrong
(My back seizes and releases) A rhythm I couldn't keep
(So I sing) The last sweep

And fall asleep

Tell me something
Give me a logic to defy
Tell me, was it an illusion when I died,
Looked down and saw my life like a map?
I died, looked down and saw my life like a map
And came back to life