It's time for another exciting installment of....
...Up late with Taki! Guests on the show tonight include:
My wisdom tooth! He's a newcomer in my life, something of an enigma that refuses to be ignored.
My anxiety about the amount of zombies I will shortly be viewing. Apart from that chick Sadako from Ringu, they are the horror creation with the greatest ability to prise open the manhole of my mind and defecate their fearsomeness therein.
My acid flashbacks. Here's some music.
How to become a gargoyle
First, think it through. It’s a big step,
what you are about to do. Consider
the implications of wings, the real impracticality
of a stone heart: loveless, bloodless,
little more than a fossil
to measure your evolution against.
Then organise your thoughts
into some sort of running order, one
following on logically from the next; a rope
of knotted sheets to climb down
deep into the muttering viscera
where the swallowed, half-digested bezoars
of misery and bitterness nestle like truffles.
Choose yourself a cave.
It needn’t be too large, or any particular
shape as long as it’s one that you’re willing
to take. Find a place to rest; a flat rock
or a stalagmite to lean against.
Hunch over your thoughts
and hatch them out. Feed on your dreams,
break them down to unlock their energy
deliciously textured, rich as caviar
or sweetbread. The rare ones are the best.
Time will smile on you, draw a calcified blanket
solicitously around your shoulders. The earth’s
fever-sweat will block your pores
with limestone, tuck you in a little
too tightly. First your crown,
your back, then ten fingers, ten toes,
ten tiny claws, and finally your wings
will jut from nothing, fully formed, relentless
as dust, a sudden fan opening out
with a sound like crumpling paper.
It will creep up on you:
one day, you’ll go to stretch or scratch
your nose and the nerve impulse
will earth itself harmlessly in your
bedrock. Nothing will have happened.
02:41am. Bugger bugger bugger.
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