Piker Press Banner
December 02, 2024

I Am a Phoenix

By Charles Cicirella

I Am a Phoenix.

The ashes of our ancestors a guidepost passed the oceans of recycled debris and restless tomorrows.
I was a classless warrior until finally accepting every tilting windmill as a shot to the bow or reminder of how close we are to madness.
Falling on your sword is noble if you understand nobility and that not every Shogun is worthy of their branding.

Let's go to the park after dark for another misguided attempt at date night because neither one of us thought to bring protection and are too lazy to hail a cab or figure out public transportation.
I wanted to be so much more as I approach fifty and yet truthfully I've always only aspired to be an artist and I've nailed that sucker as I drowned in the juices of my own infamy.
He took the belt from his hotel robe and hung himself. Play that moment over and over again in your head and you too will wind up dead before room service or the maid knocks on Heaven's door.

I wanted to unload or at the very least bust a nut before she got home, but I became so fixated on death I forgot all about taking a dump or cumming.
Losing yourself in the latest gossip will only get you to the next newsstand and don't forget newsstands are quickly becoming extinct just like dignity and the occasional wisps of hero worship.
I wanted to be my own man and then I came upon the concrete notion of gender fluidity and a rainbow of colors opened up before me like a Bonnie and Clyde bank vault or Larry King's splendid suspenders.

I tried to watch Celebrity Family Feud, but quickly grew bored so I turned off the death ray television and instead called a friend.
We must break free from the societal chains we have become all too dependent upon as we take another ill-advised chomp of the poisonous apple and discover our true selves, naked, alone and afraid of our own empty shadows.
She was my lover until she realized she was fucking below her station and left me with my dick in my hand and a sketch book full of charcoal memories of someone else's happiness.






Article © Charles Cicirella. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-10-15
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
1 Reader Comments
Charles Cicirella
11/10/2018
12:33:07 AM
Love this! Thank you!
Your Comments






The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.