let's be humans

drop me off
who really figured out the earth isn't a plane
I mean, it's plains
but I don't know
I mean, it wasn't columbus in his three speedboats, I mean of course before he got his boats
christopher columbus was going along in his three boats
with his slaves
when he discovered that the people whose land he'd discovered
were also darker than he
so they could be his slaves, too
#extraslaves
drop me off
the flat plain earth
so I can float in space
upsidedownless
rightsideupless
bodiless, totally Mister Onlymind, here
     Cassavetes & Bergman & Fassbinder etc made a lot of films
in which the losing of one's mind, or the journey into a woman's spangled neurosis, is chronicled
  I've always loved watching stuff like that
watching someone crumble into the mind-abyss
lose a self in another, or a loss, or an absense or something emptier than that
it puts it into perspective
because I sometimes feel like I'm teetering on the edge
of some similar plains
just wondering if I'll ever tumble
but we've to remember that we're just human beings, here
like columbus
like his captivated
like Cassavetes & Bergman & Fassbinder
we're just rediscovering what's never been discovered by us
or discovering what has been, already
traipsing the sinews of a brokenmind
floating on the new eternal sea
or in new eternal space
to find someone with whom to hold hands
to clutch on tenderly
till the infinite brings us round again

plug

I've got a meal in me now, it feels pretty weird

it also doesn't feel like april should end today but it will

because I think it's my favorite month. 

it's the early early mornings, and the sick smell of blossoms, 

and the promise of may

which is historically my favorite times

& I guess still should be. I am waking up, now

I can feel the blood back in my legs, the bones replacing the gelatin sog

& the sinews hardening, or maybe it's just the poison leaving my system

and I was supposed to be there, a friend

but I have only been friends with myself

keeping a mirror as a pet

making promises to the past.

but I'm sitting up, now

& looking at my face again, and it isn't as bad as I thought

and my smoke hair

is coiling like silk on the end of april

and my breath is sweeter than the sick blossoms

even with dying flowers

finally

like a motto from a tea bag I used to carry around with me to

always do the most beautiful thing.

so I'll try before I die & long before the great byebye

vengeless & celebratory is me