Cold and I’m walking
towards infinity
or what feels like infinity
even though I am aware it is not.
It took months, close to
a year, in fact, now that
I think about it. Didn’t realise
anything was wrong, ties were
invisible and the messages
subliminal, I asleep, or
a state similarly
inactive, but not now.
Leather cap has been
on my head
all along. I thought I had
shed it but no, ‘Featherless
And feeble,’ I think.
‘Blind as fuck, or a mole.’
Fuck digging. I remembered
things I had
forgotten and this is
what I mean by
infinity. Those things
I remembered were important,
essential even, and now
the leather cap is burning
somewhere far below
along with the guilt
and the itchy bonds
of fecklessness.
That eagle is probably
dead. Leather cap
fused to its tiny bird skull.
I am not dead. I wish
I were and the eagle
was alive and friends with
the mole. The mole could
ride the eagle. The eagle
could be the mole’s
eyes, describe things
to it, like rivers and stars.
It would be a one-way
relationship because there
doesn’t seem much
the mole could do
for the eagle. Maybe sing
to it? Dance for it? Slutty mole.
I drink many things
Including some green
stuff with a straw
and I feel normal until
the next day when I
realise I had not been
normal at all. I said a lot
of ‘words.’ I’m usually shy
but they are just
words and its Ok to
say them. This is one of
the things I had
forgotten but now
remember, and now
I’m talking too much.
I try to lose
the idea that I’ve
not transformed at all.
‘I’m still the same
but just pretending.’
Or, ‘I’m just a different
kind of stupid.’
There is no way to know
or win but at least I can see
that now. RIP eagle, RIP
slutty mole.
