Friday, November 6, 2009

The Key

The key to understanding my condition is the knowledge that I have limits. I feel bad. It is learning to watch my brain stop functioning
I feel bad and desire to think. I want badly to talk to someone I love. I experience a mixture of voices and panic. I dissociate myself from my accomplishments. It would make sense to take a break, give in for a restful half hour. I cannot bend my will to this simple declaration no matter how my will has been my aid earlier in the day. I call it voices because I lose my voice. I have no power of speech. It is difficult to make my needs known. I'm not asking for much talk. I only wish to say a few sentences.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Crushed Together

I have blundered and by snowball effect
made a metal music. I travel around a piano,
flute, and violin. Looked everywhere. Stopped.
Hear them grating and scraping.
Maybe you could say I listened.
A searching light on this bike ride
streams to a Douglas on a mountain.