So I’m sitting and waiting for the interview and the receptionist is coming over
‘Hello, they will be with you when they are ready’ she said
And quickly turned her head and walked and stalked back to her desk
It was funny coz it wAs only five feet away
What a strange corporate mix surrounded me
When they are ready was irritating me and I got up to leave
Just then a crimson tinged and over-fried leaf blew right pass me and landed on the receptionist’s head
It made me smile and so for intrigue alone I chose to stay a while
When the time had come over again she came with twisted fingers and gnarly clothes and spoke with long, gentle strokes of her magic tongue
‘They will see you now’, she purred.
When inside three bodies rested in gothic chairs and sparkled
I sat down as if I had found the sand bank on iwo jima
And they caressed my intelligence in order for it’s secrets to be revealed
And then I had this image of a dashboard telling the story of a car going nowhere
And the small goth noticed and growled
This was like a partial hell waiting for the bell to be tolled and the soul to be rolled into a small box with ten locks interlocked with ten other boxes and the keys held in the tomb of a hundred Levites who were scattered across land and sea
It was time to go
I don’t want this job
I don’t care about the three goths and the feline receptionist
I don’t see how the intricate and paramount tasks that you ask of me will really accomplish anything at all
I am just a ball rolling down a perpetual hill
Sitting here has dried my skin and made me ill
So thanks but no thanks
And I stood up to leave
I turned for the door and walked but inside I was running
‘Wait’ in unison they screamed
I turned and the three had become one beautiful precious stone holding the dreams and travels of every perfect soul
The dashboard was pulling me but the stone was dragging me
I lifted my hands to the sky (metaphorically through the roof)
And I just let go
I let go of the decision
I let go of the choice
I let go of the weight
Pulled and dragged
Rag and dull
Beauty and hag
Dragged and pulled
And then
In the place where quarks have moved into the palace and commanded time and matter to withdraw
In that sort of place
I became face to face with The Precious Stone.
BLUESTARE 