I was at the park and saw so many men with huge holes in their chests, playing their games.
So much happened through the holes…
Some had poles through them and were carried along, with their feet dangling on the way to their picnic. Never crying out in pain, they maintained their smiles, and chanted:
“FUN! FUN! FUN!”
Some had stones fired through them from slings attached to their sides, while they screamed:
“KILL OR BE KILLED!”
They were happy when firing, but terrified when they were the targets. Many tripped over one another trying to hide, and hoped their “friends” would take the incoming rounds.
Some had birds nesting in the pits of their bellies. All of the chicks had their necks tilted back — their beaks wide open, chirping for food. Starving. Yet none were fed. The birdmen were lost in their thoughts, but they took some pride in what they thought they had created.
Some had a fire and a rotisserie for chicken. The barbecue kings felt the heat and the smoke, but they only cranked their own handles, and stared off into the distance waiting for their meal.
All were hollow, little more than skeletons.
Yet all were not suffering, despite what they deserved.
While pecking at his autobiography: My Life as a Pork Chop, Vincent W. Sakowski has spent his life exploring the arts in a variety of forms: from pottery and the visual arts to stage plays (as a writer, director and actor), through to being a musician (playing guitar, bass, mandolin, and drums), and writing Blender Ventures. He is the author of the anti-epic novel of the surreal: Some Things Are Better Left Unplugged, the religious satire: Not Quite One of the Boys, and the short fiction collection: Misadventures in a Thumbnail Universe. Vincent lives and writes in Saskatoon, SK, Canada.
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