I thought all sorts of things before it happened. I had some ideas.
I thought that I would write, I thought that I would write something worthwhile, tonight.
I thought that I would listen to Delia Derbyshire, "The Dreams", I thought that too.
Oh, I also thought that I might watch The Legend of Hell House.
I had these ideas, almost plans, although lacking true determination and fidelity.
But, something changed, in that way, that they do, something changed, I have never liked that old hotel.
And my vision became blurred and
have you ever felt as if you were swimming in yourself? Floating in some unconscious lymph?
I frighten easily maybe, or
live daily with fearful things,
and sometimes grow threadbare,
and must sit down must leave.
I largely forget that I am not always well.
It is easy to forget, when I am in love,
so in love, and with so many things.
Daydreaming of babies and playing,
or laughing, and being so cocksure,
that joke that I wear like a truth,
which is a half-truth,
a Beltane mask.
And so I come to my plans, with several spins like a dancer, with circular vernacular,
I write, write something worthwhile, tonight.
After Satie, then after Debussy, I do listen to Delia Derbyshire, I listen to "Falling".
I think I may be too tired for Hell House. It is eleven-eleven in the evening,
eleven-eleven in the evening, I think of course- make a wish make a wish.
And I do, just in time, knowing it will come true, I have such a love,
Sometimes it feels so thick and perpetual that it could feed until full
every person on Earth lacking in love.
I do not mean that I am strong with love, or that I am weak with love,
I only know it as fact indisputable,
"I'm falling upward."
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- "Are you that old?" "Oh yes, I am."
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- floating in some unconscious lymph
- i see
- and now, some photos i did not take.
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- marked drowsiness
- look for me, i'll be around
- dear sweet sweet love
- me = you
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