Hide your teeth
Sink lower

Strengthen the lead
stamp out the unneeded

slip outside frothing
from the mouth

Sweaty flames
lick my fearful mind

Trample, thunder
I must travel, I must thunder.

Autopsy

I witnessed my first autopsy yesterday.


I was walking to my next class which was in the city hospital #4. Upon entering through the gate I noticed a bustle of lab coats and light blue hats. Wheeled him into the courtyard. I was asked to help carry him inside and place him on the table. I agreed because I rarely refuse anyone anything. Instantly, I felt his gravity pulling; his mindless body...or body-less mind. Unloaded the body onto the table, like dead meat.

His stillness caused me to tumble into a suicidal mental storm. I couldn't concentrate on the pathologist's words. Seeing a double leg amputation was shit compared to witnessing the pillaging of the human body. Was he just the sum of his material visible body parts--head, brain, eyes, nerves, neck, shoulders, ribs, sternum, arms, forearms, fingers, muscles, skin, loose flaps of fat hanging like vines torn through. Perhaps he was only this; I do not believe that.

Uneasiness clung to me. My higher brain function.

This is a poem I wrote a few years ago. I think it captures my recent experience well.

Stare

Her stare
Was shallow
her mouth in a twist
words bounce blows
no reaction

She is lost between
illness and purification
a child of organized humanity
The stove between the stairs
blew intimately unto her feelings.
no reaction

Silence coordinated among individuals
Confusion of the masses exterminated by fate
Seemigly identifiable stench seeks detachment
no reaction

She controls my every move, a slight twinge reflects a twinge in myself
She sits undaunted so that her flowers are bare
I bellow sedition so that she may hear
no reaction

Her laugh, a grave in which her sorrows lie.
A light treason in brain function
She dances softly to crafted solutions
Arms lurch to suggest relationship
I tell her I once knew, but now do not what is contained in a stare

Ba Va Ba Va beebo va dee dodo na da na.
One Two Free.

I feel constantly like I am craving something. A thing so intrinsically important that I can't understand, yet wish to attain.

Crawl along. Seek the triumph.
See me, i stand still.

Birth weans life into material possession and life weans death into nothing but fatty acids and amorphous liquids.

Controlling your existence will contort your view of the thing. The thing which may not be described accurately is contained in the mind. Your views may change to asphyxiate the knowledge you desire.

Contagious is the moment of triumph as one ascends the pipes of conformity.

Through the toil of existence we will come to realize our faith is lost. Proposing mystical subsidy is a pastime of five point Blanca. The reason we do not live as Thorough and Emerson proposed is because each time we realize our conformist ideals, we get sucked back into the human drama of life.

I would like to visit Iceland.