President Of Planet Earth © Surazeus 2024 11 29 When I hear the telephone ring again I wonder if God is still trying to call me because he wants me to play his messiah and save the world from greed of selfish tyrants, but I do not want to die on the cross, so I just let his call go to voice mail. I would rather go to the art museum and look at the tear-smeared swirls of color that hide the agony of human feelings which sting from gossip of the smarmy clowns who glare at me with harsh hostility then smile to my face with hypocrisy. Each person who passes me in the hall points to the blurry painting on the wall, and snickers with delight that it reflects confusing chaos of my cluttered mind, so I go down the endless stairs of buckets to find the plastic idol of my soul. Since my father is closing his restaurant where he sold fried fish for thirty-eight years, I search the storage room for secret treasure, but find photographs of our family under bags of rotten fish in the cooler, including one of me in my king costume. While driving Mercury Comet in the snow, to evade time warriors with laser rifles, I plow into the snow bank on the lawn and hit the statue of Saturn that falls crumbling into turtles who escape Hell, so the principle tells me to leave school. I almost join the police academy so I can beat criminals I despise, but I get conscripted into the army and sent to fight the enemy abroad, so I shoot at ghosts of Trojan warriors who celebrate the fall of America. Ambition discombobulates my mind with shiny delusion that I can win campaign for President of Planet Earth though assassins in shadows of your hearts keep shooting at the ghost of my contempt for the power of life and death I wield. When I find myself crowned King of the Earth, I try to abdicate office of greed, but my hands and legs are chained to the throne so I am forced to judge the right or wrong of every case brought to my divine court in my afternoon television show.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus acts as producer of the afternoon television show Divine Court of the World Messiah where everyone is always found guilty of being human.
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