Como Frank by Franklin Cincinnatus
Some thoughts from my pal Frank:
"I was talkin' to this dude yesterday, he claimed he was part Guatemalan, part "wild" Irish and part Native American. He was a cat, man. He was showing me a MacDonald's paper french fry container that he had picked up off the street, it had dried, kinda bloodlike, ketchup and tire tracks on it. He pointed the french fry thing up at the sky and asked me if there were anymore places like Earth up there? I replied that as far as we know, no. He then sighed, tapped the french fry thing against his ear and said, "Then I better find a use for this thing -- it needs me." Wow, I got to thinkin' about this and a tattoo he had on his right bicep that read, "Dog is not meat, Oil is not fuel, Beauty Is."
A people with no existential aesthetic exist in a manner that is not pleasing to creation.
To live at odds with the miraculous splendor and physical perfection of creation barricades the very path of the march to prosperity of civilization and humanity.
It is not possible to flourish and survive in a universe based on beautiful principles when civilization has spurned a personal and collective aesthetic. Choosing, rather, to chase obtuse, selfish desires manufactured outside of the splendor of creation.
Hell is not a seething torture chamber. It is a paved suburban shopping mall, steaming landfill or a war zone.
Beauty falls away
when man denies creation and the simple, profound fact of the world's defeat of
nothingness and its very existence and survival dependent upon mechanical miracles
constantly bestowed on a system and a people whom will marvel at this fact or
fail to choose beauty and consign themselves to slow, inexorable final ugliness
which will be called the end." Franklin
was the werewolf
in his evil forest.
We took him
to the carnival
and he started
when he saw
the Ferris wheel.
green and red tears
his furry cheeks.
like a boat
out on the dark
water." Richard Brautigan