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dream the crow black dream
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sitting quietly in my house, my little apartment
it's been my neice's house
it's been my sister's house
changed hands through a couple of cousins
it's always been in the family and smells sweet like idyllic memory
i looked in the mirror and saw a shape i had not quite seen since i was about 14, only now combined with the figure of my father before he fell ill
it wasn't a comforting sight
the muscles on my shoulders that made me look as if i didn't have much of a neck...gone...in fact all the muscles that made me a sight you did not want blocking your path or coming at you if you acted foolishly in one of the grimy bars and strip clubs i used to haunt...diminished
i won't see the doctor until wednesday, but knowing the little replicant errors and the little mutations and defects that run like family curses in my bloodstream...i'm preparing for the worst, the possibility that i may have to make the trip to that lonesome valley
sitting here in my little nest pondering mortality,
no i'm not courting sympathy, really...the few secrets i've confessed in these blue and red pages and the thousand things i still keep secret beggar the concept of sympathy
i've been dead a few times before on a guest pass, what i saw on those occasions wasn't the cliched tunnel of light and happiness...it was a bit strange...it was like a skewed version of this world...it made me understand why some people see ghosts
i'm not afraid of the destination, if, in fact, it is where i am headed
it's the process of getting there that i am not looking forward to
"...won't you spare me
over to another year..."
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020615
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