12:32 a.m. - 2004-05-16
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I am part woman and three parts child
The depth of insanity is spiritual insanity
How do you advise yourself to enter or get out of a world that cannot qualify its own existence?
This has been a dark season
Tethering the light from night to the distant day
The weather means nothing personal
However, the horses are eating horses under sky flying storms
And men are bludgeoning themselves in their sleep
Lives are taking place in relation to, yet separate from, reality
And its all…
Controlled by something uncontrollable
I am thinking about death
Until suddenly, the lights go out
And suddenly,
It was like watching someone get what they always needed
She needed one part birthing and three parts aborting
To make fruitfulness
Die
She was rinsed from life
And now her remains are in a glass pipe, next to the stove, drying
If space is empty, it wouldn’t exist
Lines running in relation only to one another
To meet at perfect consummation
And to create a universe that couldn’t exist without ordinary objects to define it
Street after street
Person after person
Vein and thought
A large chemical imbalance
Dictated by some planetary alliance
I am leaving.
Lucky is the country that possesses indigenous beauty
Say a tiger or a queen
It may look like disaster
From further away
I want to look at nothing
From the vantage point of everything
I stranded myself only once
Exclusively contiguous with night
With no gas station open within ninety miles
From nowhere
I panicked for a while
At standstill, myself stalled
And the weather was terrible
It happened, by coincidence, to last
The entire time I was alive
Looking at my life in perfect order
I wouldn’t suspect it understands
That it is waiting to be aborted
And myself, rebirthed
Rinsed and dried from a pipe, next to a foreign stove
