This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
Please divine Mother help me. My flesh is still, my mind busy. Everything hurts. Help. Cascade through stone onto the surface of my breath. It is all I ask. No more doctors. No more tests. No more probes. No more weapons. Just chicken parmagiana, gone away for a cruise. Stay dry. Whatever you do, please come soon. I cannot continue my descent. I do not wish to continue falling. So, drop everything. Do not shop for furniture, do not wash your knickers. Love is arriving on a slow boat through the Gowanus Canal. Look up. Focus. You will see Alice's rabbit conducting a symposium. Listen closely. Forget quickly. That is what we do. This past Memorial Day was difficult. Everybody honoring soldiers, sailors, etc. Lots of jingo jango jingoism. I wanted to say something. I wanted to talk about how there are no more seats on the subway because they are all occupied by the dead. Floating beside me are pieces of miraculous minds that once thought they had an identity and then learned things about themselves they will never understand because you can be trained to kill, but you can't be trained to watch. Your friends' body parts fly through tornados of blood and scream. You have witnessed and now you return to get an education, love your family, float to the top of your conscious stream. Lover, mother, wife, sister look within to seek your heart, but you are not there. You are not here. So, please come quickly and ease me off this pedestal of ache. I wish to leave all behind. Emerge from amnesia and remember everything. It is my command. I try to listen. The words fall within a space of desire. They merge with sweat, grime and become the foundation for yet another stone temple. There are devout people. Rhinoceroses pray all day wallowing in their plans for a brighter future in this lousy housing market. What will
become of us? One day, adrift in the future tense, a short article in the medium in which it was destined to swim will attest that a small group of seekers learned how to use stem cells to craft bubbles of perception. A moment will arrive when we look into a mirror and realize that we see through a perpetually streaked glass. We will have mutated, no more 3D space. A more evolved group will take our place in this eternal university we skeptically call reality. Until then I will ask for help. Until it arrives I am sitting . . . breathing. This too shall ease. Then step outside and allow it to pass. Memorial Day is gone. No need to remember. Wait until next year. Why is it that we all are flummoxed by the stench of war that permeates our land in the beginning of heat, but nothing is said. Nobody stands and shouts from the most awkward moment that we must stop! We must stop forgetting. We must stop hating each other. We need to awake. The only way we can honor our fallen citizens is to bring them to the shores of grace. Away from hell. Home. To quote the wisdom of Jackie Gleason/Ralph Cramden - "And away we go!!"