Scene I: Once Upon A Time
Enter a man of age, a man of culture, a man of presence: a man of the bachelors. His anorexed patient is waiting inside his room, in want of health, and screams to his tenders for the doctor to walk inside. The patient is strapped in his feeding chair and ready for surgery. The man of age, the doctor, walks outside to his balcony to admire the diving light coming down from Diana’s wet eye. He continued to admire the sex of it, and began to sing his praises to the moon. Thus streamed his conscious:
As Apollo was made for light before the essence of the meditative rose strung itself for Olympus, Helios was the great fashioner of presence better than any Icarus to hit Zeus and fall out the heavens for arrogance. Jove became a cow, and the murders of the heavens cannot be explained. Adonis committed adultery on Venus for relations with Aphrodite, and the confusion of the seas set Poseidon off to make more waves against Ulyssess with another train to come and another train to go off, and the streams of the ocean to make another stream to fully form the virility of Neptune’s empire. Nothing about the book of the dead has Tutankhamun, but in the pyramidal ages of Khufu, I did see Helios kiss the lip of the sky and the breast of the clouds, and – methinks my conscious is funny, and with a freud of delusion. Within me, there is a war, and – along the ways, by the riverrun lakes and the grain-grassed plains, I saw paradise be denied from Adam and Eve by Raphael and Gabriel when they tried to recompense for their befuddled past. The angels had none of it, and expelled them from their natures- I see the myth of me now, and the way Bacchus feeds his waters and grapes them to wine, and eye the heart of the earth as Atlas carries our world’s weight. The essences are quintessential, and carry a philosopher’s stone in the magnum opus of alchemy, and the stage of Face that Jonson wrote was famous as played- my praises are befuddled, and lead to confusion; I’m at loss with myself and have no light to fashion the Hippocrates of health and the Galen for silence. I’m without peace, and the strikes of my mind stir me away from God’s Mighty Hand. I’m without- and another distraction of the sidelines of spear throwing in the Olympics that Ovid created for Narcissus to fall into the fountain and become a flower. I heard the Echo, but this was cheated by Daphne, and the essence of friendship carried on by Pythias arm in the realm of Phidias making another wonder of the world- without the essences to complete the essences to complete the One by Plotinus, I’m for becoming a-
A blade-like cloud graced itself across the eye of the moon, and it was from this divination, he knew his calling.
The man of age, the doctor, walked back inside and entered with the patient. As the blade-like cloud continued to cut across the moon, the man of age, the doctor, prepared for operation. And as the half-witted Andalusian Dog appeared, the doctor prepared, as the blade-like cloud cut across the moon, by grabbing a rabeliaish scalpel of his own design. He knew his calling; and as the half-witted Andalusian Dog appeared, as the blade-like cloud cut across the moon, by transition, the illness of the air whispered gentle, as the doctor cut his knife across the patient’s eye.
Scene II: Eight Years Before
Along the Hemingway-like road, beyond the velvet underground, a graced-cut man by the name of Irvin rode his bicycle with a hand strung behind it. The hand bobbed up and down, with blood leaking from it, but this didn’t matter to Irvin because he wanted to see his half-witted Andalusian Dog and see if his sister made the fish cakes. The hand continued to bob up and down, until by Atropos cousin Irvin was hit by a car and the hand that was strung disconnected from the bike. Irvin got up from this atrocious accident, but the hand became tender and seemed not to make it, so he decided to take walk his rest room since his apartment was only three minutes from where he was. The cars continued their movement, while the trucks were upon their calls, but the humans of the east began to huddle the hand and see if it was ok. But a grey-eyed man, blind of cataracts, walked over to the center of this huddle and took his stick and began to poke at the hand. All walked away and the cars missed the blind man as he was poking away the hand. He continued to poke, and poke, and poke, and by the divination of the stars, he heard Saturn call him and began to cry to and within himself, as Jove proceeded to metamorphosize him into a tree and Apollo to enter but avoiding him because he wasn’t Daphne. There then grew a tree, like the Spanish rose, in the middle of this Harlem-like street, that sprouted from its tips milk that began to flood everyone in its vicinity.
Irvin was home before the milk was by, so he voiced a speech to help his mind’s alibi when he was before his door by his personal garden:
Irvin: Vermeer and the ages, how sweet are the sounds of May!
The pedals, the roses! All seems a garden to me in this age!
The world’s invention is but a blessing, and the sufferings
Are for the works of tomorrow. Chemistry and math,
Pythagoras and the exchangement of souls all come to spirit,
And the smells are recent nosegays in mine follies for change!
What sudden will! What is mine heart giving french to in my mind?
Methinks I am taken by other forces beyond me,
And the thud-like presence has song on me like Orpheus
In the lyres that confound the earth from the eternal.
What is this? This darkness that befores me?
Art thou Count Orlok or some other creeping thing
That possesses a german nature? Mephisto? Something ancient?
Beezelbub? Baal? Thou presents an illness to the air
And conceits me from putting english on it or making bias
To turn it around and shoot it from me. I am taken under a change.
While Irvin was making the most of his conceits, inside the room, his woman was musing herself, representing a portrait only Vermeer had a taste for in her innocent and domestic activity, with an edge of Rubens to despite her a fierce mentality of the soul: she was sowing a snake back together that of recent ate itself to abide the ambition of making gold, with a cup of white tea on the table beside her, and a dish of spoons on the other, while drops of paint were falling down on her to give her smiles. She also didn’t mind how an orangutan just escaped through her furnace, and how Hector of Troy just cheated her with a kiss: she was at all innocence just sowing the snake.
The beds began to appear from the bedrooms, and move at a sudden, and because of this happening, the woman, named Marie, walked over to the window to see what was going outside. The milk was flooding the streets, but there grew a plenty number of people indulging in these earth’s offers by jumping up and down and playing in the milk’s blood as if it were a pool for recreation. She also saw how the tree that grew in the street was now a hundred feet tall, as an elephant of with fifty-foot legs was prancing around with a sissy-strut.
Irvin appeared without notice, and this shook Marie. He told her not if the air was on, if the food was on cold, or if the bats came out the walls again, nor did she tell her if the panty raid was going on, nor if the roses were meditative, nor if Igor was back in his suite, and what became of all of this tension was a lot of fighting. Punches were pocketed, even though Sugar Ray Leonard teleported from the corner of the room, but tongues were thrown by their best argument to see which party would submit to the other. The environment shape-shifted, as Irvin and Marie continued, with the couches flipping themselves over, the ceilings to lower like a lever on the left side, the Englishmen from Moscow entering and exiting and reentering from the front door, with the walls to show individual faces of a contorted form by the next centimeter. Several hungry ghosts appeared, and began to take on their own damage: they ate the chairs, the fridge, the flooring plans, the window panes, the milk, but were never satisfied. Krisha appeared, as well as Brahma, and grew all sided heads with Janus to motion out time and eternity. Fire and brimstone appeared, did no damage, and morphed the room into a Picasso painting, with the little lilliputians now have twisted faces and extended necks, and the devil to enter for the sake of deviling up a frozen Hades.
A mighty hand appeared, and snapped his fingers, and by this fate all furniture and items of the apartment disappeared, except for Irvin and Marie fighting with mouths. Bur from their fighting, this caused them to back away from each other and speak speeches from the inspired muse of Calliope for Poetry’s sake:
Marie: Like avant-garde, I’m nothing and grow into nothing;
The specks of my soul hold no universe, and Sappho
Wouldn’t praise me. Am I woman? Art for me is but a passing,
And I know now when Time will prove his scythe
On our colors to prove what represent God best.
But look at the sun, reigning Helios! Or is it Horus?
There’s a confusion in me that speaks not in health
But in illness. Why must I be modern? What is this modern woman?
Man is one for illness, and subject to all disease.
Am I just but a passing? Will there be another life? Will my soul
Find another soul to harbor itself?
Irvin: Though mine senses and affections are corrupted of men,
Methinks there’s another life beyond our own, much richer
Than Apollo’s light, and beauty enough to cause a sadness
In it’s too much art for human passion. But, as sanity comes away,
A devil confuses me of reason, and drives me mad
To long for a home- I am a lion, I am a wolf,
I become the wolf to counter other lions’ process,
But become the lion to scare off other wolves;
I am the cause, the effect is of the earth, as Tellus reigns,
And reach entropy out of stratospheres for philosophy-
Marie: Why does your speech sound mad? Thou art makes me mad!
Am I lost of wits- wherefore thou art? As Jupiter’s puffed-up cousins
Make waves by Uranus and far-reaching light, love-happy Venus
Trammels my heart to only lust for thought, and hunts for
The Adonis to find me. Or the Hercules, if he ‘s finished of his labors:
His twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen labors,
I will help him fight the hydra! I will sacrifice for Medusa!
I’ll give Romulus his egg, and Remus his milk! I’ll-
Irvin: Possessed in polytheism, I feel the influence,
By the trees, the birds, the snakes and serpents that are quick
To be eaten by the bird of omen to the fires; and by Narcissus,
I love myself, but not a love love myself, but a loving love of myself
That includes the illness of me. I can’t help but to fall in love
With the mirror!
Marie: O! The mirror! The mirror! The mirror! Where are thou affections
For me?
Irvin: The mirror! The mirror! The mirror! The mirror! The mirror!
Marie: O the mirror! Let us find the mirror!
And it was upon this request Irvin and Marie looked medious and expeditiously for the mirror. From their searches, they had no hope, even though this apartment is their house; and because of the resentful Titans witnessing their struggles from the seas, they warped the dimensions and brought Narcissus running from Echo somewhere in Elysium or Hades into the house to find the mirror. Narcissus continued to run, but in circles, until he found a mirror in the blank living room’s wall and admired himself. He loved himself, but like the book, he fell into the mirror that turned into a fountain and spouted water everywhere. But because the fountain was in reality, the fountain was too heavy for the floor plan and crushed through several different flights of stairs, killing an evolved number of people living under Marie and Irvin.
The two star-crossed lovers were audience as the scene took place, but cared less for it since all it brought was a new hold in the floor, and a crushed mirror. But from Jove’s forgiveness, the mirror was then repaired and the floor plan was recovered, and what sat was a flower petal of divination and beauty. Both Marie and Irvin admired the flower such that their lust erupted from slavery and rebelled against their conscious and began to sniff the plant intensely as the breath of the flower brought serpents into the room, and started to lick, taste, feel, pluck, slap, grab, jack, rub, pull, touch, kick, water, and yell at the flower for all of its beauty.
The flower deceased, and the firgation and enmity of the lovers began to quiver and quarrel up their humors. They stared at each other; and as the freedom train blew, and as Tristram Shandy began to read his praise outside the hall at a provolumed level of noise, expeditiously, Marie and Irvin backed up as if they were going to start a fist fight, until the face of Irvin evolved into something animal and started to prowl around for Marie’s lustments and favors. Marie ran, but Irvin continued to chase. They stopped for a moment to look at one wall of the room to admire how the paint was drying, how the color of the paint was gray, how the gray paint was plain, how the bats were coming out the wall, how the gray paint was their favorite wall color, and how they would be happy in the apartment forever; but this artistic fashion was given halt for Irvin to continue his lion-like behavior. And in his prowess he stopped, looked at her with hunger in the eyes, and gave Marie a wink. She obeyed and listened, and told him that Jimmy wanted his camera back, how Venus was a true Mars for cheating, and the Universe was still in a gray area. Irvin liked her flirtations, and began to cup her bosom and breast into his hand. Hunger was still in his eyes and that dog in him wanted a cat, and he continued to admire, worship, and cup the breast of Marie with the praises of Solomon on his tongue.
Irvin: As two lamb, the beauty of the ages! O love! O lust!
What passions resort me! The milk of the skin to compliment,
And the breast of another age, as Helen in her beauty!
A neck, a tower itself, of no babel or confusion,
But all built for art! Where’s the sonneter to praise thee?
I’m no wit for this, but all love! O Love! O Lust!
O Passions! O Desire! O Love! O Lust! My passions
Are beyond me!
Irvin gave himself and his passions a taste, and continued to his enjoyment. Marie and obeyed and listened, and told her smarts were with her wits, the freedom train is soon to cross, the Agnus Dei is all with us, the ground is filtered with dust, the purity of the sand cannot be touched, the yard is mowed, the milk of the heavens will rain manna, the Egyptians will suffer no more years, the plagues and burning of wasp will have their day, Thor will find the Elder Eddas, and the youth of Bacchus will drink to Epicurus, as she undressed to her naked beauty. She continued to explicate and literate her smarts, and also turned around for Irvin to admire her bottom, by saying in the act El Greco will have passions, The Coronation of the Virgin will soon be free, Starry Night will become known, Zeus of Olympia will be found again, Thesus was killed on a rock, Rimbaud and Verlaine had their affairs, the drunken boat crossed against Lucian, The Virgin of the Rocks had her babes, Sistine Madonna will be praised again, Mozart was one for scatology, Njal sailed the seas, Rubens will meet Vermeer, Rembrandt will remember Rembrandt, Norman Rockwell made a good feast, Ivan the Terrible was a monarch, Seneca wrote on Phaedra, Michelangelo made David look at Florence, Rabelais was a Christian, there’s another representation of Vishnu, Da Vinci wrote on man, Viturvius tried to cover a sailboat, Siddhartha Gautama fell under the Bodhi tree, Buddhist Monks come back from Nirvana to teach us of the feat, Galileo was sentenced for turning the earth, Ptolemy told us of the music between the stars, Kelper discovered Kelper, Plotinus told us of The One, the serpent eats himself to make birth of a new serpent, John Calvin predetermined the fates, Thomas More lives in Utopia without Henry the Eighth, Martin Luther was a King, Louis the Fourteenth like his wars raw, Moliere was disguised as Tartuffe, Moliere died on stage, Cornielle was The Cid, Euclid taught lines, Apollonius was one for math, Nicomachus was one for prisms, Descartes doubted himself, The Holy Grail was caught by Launcelot, Absalom fought the war with his father or brother, Racine represented divinity, Racine was Euripides, Sixtus the Sixth was a man, Arthur the Great stole from Ireland, Circero is the Roman’s greek to have heed to imitate, there are there souls by Aristotle, Shakespeare was a humanist, Phidias made several wonders of the world, Quinilian represented words, Petrarch is Italy, Boccaccio is the divine proser, Dante is the divine Italy, Aquinas had five arguments, Lucretia was abused, Sextus Tarquinius was kept under conspiracy, Jospehus wrote on the Jewish Wars, Martial was a poet, Juvenal has bread and circuses, Augustus told us of the City of God, David was a man against Goliath, a man was arrested upon a cloaks faith of many colors, Gibbon predicted the West, Plutarch lived lives, Pliny the Younger saw Vesivius, Pliny the Younger wrote letters, Tacitus saw Christians, Nero was a tyrant, Nero opened his mom’s stomach, Nero saw Rome burn, Boetius was a prisoner, Socrates was drunk on hemlock, and all much more while Irvin and all to his admiration cared less of these stories and facts, though still giving ear, and helped himself to his pleasures by cupping her naked and soft Juliet-like breast and thrice-graced bottom.
After this admiration took place, Irvin felt his desire complete with Marie’s dolphin-veiled skin along the charms of her body’s temple. He let out a voice of beautiful agony, without dirtiness of his family jewels defiled, while Marie smiled and put her clothes back on. But in the spheres, there was a disruption, and through the walls Irvin and Marie saw many a daggers’ blade poked through the wall. To Marie’s horror, spiders grew and crawled out the lines of her palms, and began to pop and pop out at nascarious speed no one could hold lighting to, and began to eat her out alive. The spiders, to their best but her worst content, had an Adam’s apple and began to laugh at her weakness and beauty falling away from her; Irvin tried to save her by picking the spiders off her chest one by one, but the spiders continued to beget themselves to another begation of spiders too fast for his eye. Irvin had no conclusion, and began to cry like Niobe’s fountain crying for children, and told Marie, by last chance, to give voice to the word ‘Yah’; but in this she refused the suggestion and took offense to it. Irvin told her again, but Marie protested in her offense, and seemed to be more concerned with the fact that Irvin was trying to tell her to say ‘Yah’ than the spiders eating her flesh by flesh. Irvin said the word, but it was no use since Marie couldn’t even save herself, and was then eaten up by the spiders out of her body and made piecemeal to the spider’s feat. All the serpents, all the snakes, the Hydra’s and Medusas and creeping things that savage the earth entered in through a portal from the floor and began to delight in Marie’s death, and began to eat from her bits while Irvin watched.
Scene III: Two Years Later
Marie skipped along the beach sands, having the full shore of Nice to her own view. The waters looked naked, and Marie began to strip again to return to Neptune’s empire in their graceful waves and gestures. Sappho accompanied her, but then rejected this and her indulgments for the sake of writing gaecious praises. Marie didn’t mind, as a man named Prince Beast stood behind her and tried to back her up upon any scent of urgency or trouble among the waters. Marie felt protected, and gave a laugh and began to walk into the waves. Prince Beast didn’t want to just stand behind her and do nothing by the top of the shoreline, so he followed Marie into the waters; but as he continued his follows, the environment followed from the shores of Nice to the forest of the Amazon forest, with them now to run through trees and bushes alike to not be caught by any strange beast. Marie felt a sense of freedom and a oneness with the forest, as if the forest was her and she was the forest, and cared less of social contract between man and men for law to stop her from running. Thus streamed her conscious:
I am in the fields of fairy tale, the fields of Rapunzel, and wrap myself in the arms of earth’s soul- the greatness of the rose, the senses of the tree, the power of the fruit, all are tasty to eye of! And here, the invention of my pleasures, and- O! The sky! Uranus at his best- but then I told the world the Tellus of it, and the flames of my soul see another flower for a flower for a flower for a flower for a flower for a flower for a flower for a flower for a flower of all the petals and flowers up and away and along the roadside of flowers and rocks of the conscious scene that Elizabeth the first had it against Mary of Scots- and the flowers promise me a dream in the nature of things- three little pigs, a children’s nursery, and the feat of flight, I fly as Icarus! And come down in arrogance! And the illuminations of everything! What symbolism! What a healthy taste of the world! All seems but a dream in the interpretation of my senses! For I see everything! I see the heavens! The greatness of those gates! I see them! The happiness! O the happiness! And here is- why must I feel low? My emotions are fickle- and the flowers of the flower of the flowers of a rose of one rose of one rose of one rose of one rose, as the elephant of fifty feet passes by, of one rose of one rose of one rose of one rose of one rose of one rose as some crazy people try to make one rose, precisely under the feat of rosary engaging the Hyrcan lion for fierceness, in what the body is under able, appointed under the unifigurated, desdious, ververious anointment of the sky- and here lies the grave six feet, under and away and over and above, over under sideways down, as the yardbird was taken as a dove for the rain, as the daughter of Bellona made war against Venus in the violent affair of Mars, mistaken for Aeneas- the seasons are bitter, and the beast continues to follow as if Thucydides wrote on Jupiter for fun, and there were no Titans left in the Grecian myth of Remus for all to collect the confusion of the age and- wherefore must mine confusion reign against me? I feel me beaten from thought. Methinks my soul has a black hole in it, that confounds my gravity, spins me, and sends me to darker depths; though I’m with freedom, I grow sad in the overmuch of it. And how can I- and the flowers of the flowers of another flower, up and down and the sideways marking, for the other trammel of the heart to come to revolution before the Centaurs attack by their legs again. Minotaur showed his best interest, but neither I nor the Satyr saw it correct for Petronius’ feast. Expeditiously, I found my way through trouble, and called Laertes to let me portalize myself from the resentments of the flesh. And where grew the tree, I found myself under it like a spittèd valve of blood fountaining the terrains with redness, and gave up a ghost to come to the other sectors of life beyond and under our own spheres. I knew not life, but saw it with all senses, and- my mind’s focus is around the earth, with no ground to keep it within the range of vitality; where is reason? I am all will, and all will to the freedom. Death shall have no dominion, and the world’s good light shines correctly in hope and happiness of all.
She continued to run with all fear behind her, though the princely beast continued to behind her to make sure she was okay. Eventually she reached a cave and stopped on a sudden, turned around and saw the princely beast was now in a coffin. The reverends and undertakers prepared his event, with Marie to help as well by walking around the coffin a hundred times before reaching out to a bell, that on the sudden grew in front of the cave, and kicked it. The reverends and undertakers were confused, but continued their proceedings. They buried him, with a poem written on the tombstone, but this poem caused the princely beast to feel himself and wake up from the dead, as he forced his way through all the coffin’s lock to the ground’s mud to recover himself of his sights again. Everyone stared at the beast, but he said his excuse for leaving the coffin was because his name was Harry and that no one liked him down there next to all the diamonds. Also Menelaus’ father from Hades told to return to the sands of time and sacrifice himself to greater cause; and thus upon this anointment, the heavens turned the beast, after his self-resurrection, and metamorphosed him into Agamemnon the bachelor, before meeting Clytemnestra the schemer, and was given youthish health to fight a quest of raging bulls. Marie liked the sights, and grabbed this Agamemnon by the hand for them to skip along the forest that now became a beach once more.

This beach however didn’t last long, as the sands began to melt by the crest of the earth, and the waters began to decay by their own waves to the earth’s bottom. To waste time, Marie and this Agamemnon screamed to the top of their longs for the fun of it, and made a dallying of themselves by their lust giftings. They moved hastily around each other, by baking pies, slicing peaches, flowering eggplant, and eating at the eggs of their centers. They kissed for view, but most of their affections were spent in dalliance. All their energies were spent, and the wars around them didn’t seem to bother their demeanor, as pilots were dropping, bombs were off, and the fuels were being exhausted. But the two continued to cook up a new recipe for themselves in all their playing, until the half-witted Andalusian Dog appeared, and a misabused bomb was thrown upon them without notice and killed them both. There were no reverends nor undertakers, except for the half-witted Andalusian Dog that circled them around. The environment around them was a violent red, as if Mars came from his corners and virused the nations against each other, or if Vulcan was paid to paint the grounds with his most famous works. All was fire, and all was sucked up, and around Marie and this Agamemnon was death, and what became their death soon gave light to their own coffins, and what gave light to their own coffins was the same influence that put them to sleep by his cousin and under a tombstone. All was all, and given so, as the earth was given the world to live by.
*inspired by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí