Paper, plastic or reality

OK, it's been quite a few days since I've written anything and this morning I had some time and checked out Friday Five - the words are brittle, aluminum foil, Polaroid, skunk and salt - not too easy - I decided to try something I've seen done before and combined the five words given as well as my own choice "cautioned" and put it all into the previous form - the Sestina - here we go, I must admit this was tough!



There is a dreamlike haze surrounding the streetlamp, nothing brittle
more like cloudiness than a sharpened, focused Polaroid
flaring nares inhale my fearful stench much like an angry skunk
while the beads that form on my brow are filled with borrowed salt
and my knee joints are reminiscent of crinkling aluminum foil
I could not deny being aware, just this very morning I had been cautioned

Call it a warning or call it an alert but yes I was cautioned
and despite the growing sense of dread my brains were brittle
and could not heed, I belted my knife like an aluminum foil
oblivious to the possible outcome, just seeing my minds Polaroid
in no way caring if perhaps my visions like bland food needed salt
in order to properly taste, sense, my enemy, that man, that skunk

Tonight I needed false bravado so I first got as drunk as a skunk
so as to care not that I had been first and foremost, cautioned
my concern was to lure him to this spot like a deer to a block of salt
and without his knowledge leap out and begin to pummel his brittle
bones capturing each individual assault to his body like a Polaroid
that I could relive and reuse as if it were yesterdays aluminum foil

Part of me knew I was wrong yet part still glinted like aluminum foil
at the thought of slaying, or even just deeply hurting this lousy skunk
I even considered having a friend stand by with a camera, a Polaroid
to be sure that each moment was saved for posterity, hmph, cautioned,
I'd rather savor this moment like a confection of nuts, a crunchy brittle
that has all the sweetness of candy yet still has that trace of salt

You see, my life has been like an ill prepared Martguerita, never any salt
on the rim and my desires never stayed hot enough, like aluminum foil
that when used and removed from the heat has merely become brittle
and tasty yesterdays can only conjure the lurid aroma of the nasty skunk
It's true, yes it is, it's me who does the warning, I'm the one who's cautioned
myself, I always do, and as long as I'm in control there will be no Polaroid

There will be no slaying, no intentional hurting, no, never a Polaroid
yet for some reason I seem to enjoy filling my wounds with plenty of salt
and always manage so, no matter if I have or haven't been cautioned
my tongue lashes upon itself like the sharpened edge of aluminum foil
and my only enemy is myself, I'm my own evil, my own stinking skunk
I often question my motives for why I've caused my heart to become brittle

My dreams like an old Polaroid photo have a way of fading into nothingness
whether my cautioned thoughts are reality or just my possessed fear

Maybe someday my brittle composure will again be like supple suede
and I will once more be able to smile while I taste the salt of the day

Perhaps the time will come when the skunk inside of me just up and dies
and I won't have to try to recycle my minds aluminum foil ever again


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