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snow
i walked out with the dog
into the snow
and it blew into me
stuck to me
an angel
a weapon
sticking, like memory
falling into the ground and disappearing
like a dozen memories
i would not have believed could even be
remembered
and i saw myself as i was
and did not try to understand
but saw the snow falling
disappearing into the ground
like my mother
and felt her and the snowsuit around me
the blue snowsuit
felt that strange kind of pleasant pain
the sharpness gives
sun was a dull yellow circle
obscured as it blew across
and i tried to hold onto these words
felt them stick and knew them safe
and how i wished the children were there
to tell my story to
my story
that disappeared into the ground
with her
and i wished you were there
to tell
i don't know why
and it blew into me
alone again
"...alone in the snow, alone at school,
from that day to this a willing fool."
Ah, do you know how it blew into me?
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Now that you are asleep and half attentive
I want to use your mind
In my experiment
I am getting slippery, very slippery
Now that I am half asleep
Let me take you
to unterzone
You are falling from the top of a long flight of stairs
My mother is standing at the top of a long flight of stairs
Fully asleep
Dead
Now that you are fully asleep
Let me take you
to unterzone
Now that I
am in my childhood bedroom
Alone
take you let me to unterzone
The source of intention
Welcome to unterzone – under – zone.
Don’t lose me to unterzone, the self-refrigeration.
This is unterzone.
Not the underworld - too glamorous.
unterzone, superficial, stamped with futility, the glue love cannot stick.
Two glues there are: love, and everything else.
Everything else upscaled isn’t much use because it’s too big to matter.
It seems to be important.
Am I important? Ask. Is he important? He says, is important. unterzone is an underpass: long, low grey walls and dirt. I am unterzone, my own unterzone. What was once important is no longer. I am no longer important. Unwelcome, a footnote to myself.
Selling me myself? In Saneworld you are sick, severe and enduring. Lying to me in Saneworld, when I visit it, which I limit, it makes me sick. Of Saneworld.
I have given up my bed in Bedlam, ate my way through the chain and beat my way through the dogs into unterzone. I don’t believe in you; don’t believe in me.
Taking my confession..?
Half my life inauthentic to myself.
There’s worse ways to be beaten than with a belt.
As my father would have put it, “childish nonsense”.
I can make myself full of pain, cracking it at others like a whip.
Filed away or filed down, the core would remain toxic gold.
Love falling from the top of a long flight of stairs.
Are you falling from the top of a long flight of stairs?
I am repeating my steps at the top of a long flight of stairs.
Can you see me from the top of a long flight of stairs, across these space flights of stairs? Snowflake humans bumping down like meatware Slinky’s. Or spilling like milk, sticking to all it covers.
I receive, accept and am grateful for the gifts of the dead, their living guitars, unstilled voices, imposing spirits and nulled minds. Anybody can see that here I am. A parasite upon genius.
All my anger is righteous
In desert, water
Living on nothing
I found all before
The nerves of the machine
Need to be cleaned
The last in the series
Animal spirits
In the bloodstream
Below the floor
Where the rats live
That’s where I belong
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