Truth Be Told
The theme park was crowded. Elephants on roller coasters, mosquitos bracing the water slide, ferrets enjoying the ferris wheel and leopards shooting crack in the gallery. A myriad of personification and abundance of fairy tailed suggestions. ‘Its a small, small world’ blared from Magic Mountain as Cinderella dressed up as an indentured laborer in a fancy shoe shop. A comedy of terror ensued in the ghost train, conducted by a retired wall street banking giant resuming the corporate identity of a demon slayer. seemingly seeking redemption, but of course, he had another ace in his sleeve.
All animals were equal but of course the apocalypse had struck in 1984 and the Lord of the Flies was buzzing disguised as an orange clock, collected tickets and sold strawberry ice cream.
An English patient from a nearby lunatic asylum, thought he was a beetle, but Kafka had married Mary Antoinette and was sipping champagne from her braw. She, for once was not eating cake and was thus unveiling the myth of leavened bread at her altar. A merry go round of deception in the snake pit in which a contortionist was trapped in limbo and loin cloth from hell. Mary Magdalene teased him with with a vile of anti venomous serum and soothed his wavering agony in anticipation of saving the world.
Hot cross buns offered cold comfort, but the world was on withdrawal after management had banned coke as a sugar substitute. Sweet dreams were made of lactose free roach skin and the party dwellers reveled in aspirations and nightmares, elevated to prime position in the national canon. A truly amazing ode to joy and poignant distraction from the pawn shop of modern living.
But when the bell struck midnight and Dali melted his digital clock, all went back to the nothingness of the human condition. ‘Your shift starts in eight hours, nothing has moved because of a little fun in paradise’s ante chambers.’ Thanks God the crowd were already wearing their flannel night gowns. ‘Gotta live life to the full and heaven can’t wait.
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