Tags
afraid, Alzheimer's, Iris Murdoch, Poetry, sonnet, sorrow, the one alone
Is there any other way out of this
skull? I’ve drugged it, drilled holes in it, shot it
full of electricity. Nothing. There’s bliss
in pain, yes. But not release. I mean, shit,
Murdoch’s fog still creeps in. I am blurring
in front of the mirror. I’m freaking out.
Maybe ghosts are just us dead forgetting
who we are? Without memory I doubt
I am going to be saved, find a path
out of this woods. Lover, do not leave me.
I am afraid. Perhaps I have always
been this afraid, I do not know. My wrath,
my laugh, my fears, my love I am sorry
no, no, no do not sink into this haze.
WARNING: You are now entering Jim Morrison Land. You seem a few bottles and about a dozen pills more sober, but you’ll probably make it there where he staggered, stumbled, bumbled, and then keeled over in that toilet in a Paris bar. Good for you ! Really loving this northern cold nonsense…getting on the ball here in a minute and getting some reservatings for a ride home.
Later…
I recall reading a Tom Robbins novel (Still-life With Woodpecker, I think) where he talked about letting the wild blackberries over run Seattle, turning the city into a giant briar patch, feeding the birds and anyone else who was hungry simply by walking outdoors. Also would be a perfect first line of defense if the Canadians ever invade … not that I think the Canadians are plotting anything. All the Canadians I know seem very nice and if Neil Young hasn’t set his sights on world conquest it probably just isn’t going to happen. Good luck with your reservations!
They got all the oil sand…they’re going to be calling the shots in North America in two years, that’s my guess…unless there’s another Bush in line for the Casa Blanca.
Later…
Hmmm … a Tim Hortons on every corner? No, the American people might be lax when it comes to civil rights, their government and the environment, but have you ever tasted Tim Hortons coffee? Gwak! they’ll be rioting in the streets if it ever comes to that.