Long drives
replay long
conversations
that sit with me
through longer
nights.
But your stay
was so
short,
sometimes I'm
not even sure
you were real.

They ****** us in;
King and country,
Christ Almighty
And the rest.
Patriotism,
Democracy,
Honor—
Words and phrases,
They either ******* or killed us.

If my Valentine you won't be,
I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

do you dissociate too?

do you find yourself floating in space?
not on a gentle cloud or on the wings of a soaring eagle,
but on my own, supported by just air as i lose my head.

do you find yourself underwater?
not drowning but not breathing either.
the water rushes in my ears and the voices beside me are muffled
so i am left on my own with only my thoughts to accompany me.

do you find yourself gliding above ground?
i work through motions and play like a puppet on strings.
my feet never touch the ground while my head lolls on my shoulders.

my ears are plugged, my hands are clasped to still them.
the noise of the whole world is attacking me but i cannot decipher a word.
do you dissociate too?
please don't tell me i'm the only one.

1693

The Sun retired to a cloud
A Woman’s shawl as big—
And then he sulked in mercury
Upon a scarlet log—
The drops on Nature’s forehead stood
Home flew the loaded bees—
The South unrolled a purple fan
And handed to the trees.