Subverse Aphrodesia

Aftermath, Inc. (second draft)

Perceptions muddled on strange swampy plain
where reality and nightmare bleed together
one mind-numbing minor chord
pushed us scrambling for earplugs

As shock waves subsided
an awkward huddle stood shivering
a cluster of rubbed raw nerves exposed
clinging in profound contemplation
slopping about in the puddles of random tear detonations
throbbing with pathos in the wake of lost vibrancy

The truth was hard enough to fathom without confirmation of the HAZMAT crew sighting

“What did it say?” (I insisted they repeat the words.)
“The side of the truck said Aftermath, Inc.”
I had not heard wrong.
But surely, this was a creepy B movie
a hallucination, an inspired one, but not reality. Not true.
Too frigid an umbrella for those who’ve performed so intimately

Weeks later
still seeking truth
I find the clean up company online
an awkward new age pulse of music plays
defining titles sliding across my screen
and I wonder
Is there a lot of competition to land the worst jobs in the world?
remediating rooms. decontamination. easing trauma – safe, subtle words on the home page
deeper within the hard ones hit -- homicide. suicide. unattended deaths. crime scene. meth labs. feces. blood borne pathogens. medical waste.

Wading in the fall out of destruction
certified strangers had touched the reality we could not bring ourselves to imagine --
because we did not want to because we did not need to…
We don’t need to hear the whole song to know that it sucks.
We don’t need look to directly at the sun to see the shadows of its light, to feel the warmth of its rays. And our eyesight must be protected --
there are precious memories to curate,
and influential forethoughts to cultivate.