RUN OVER BY A PLASTIC TRUCK:
Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t self pity. I got no time for that.
I wake up every morning, count my fingers & toes, look out the
window & say, “Thank you”. Another chance, another opportunity,
another blank canvas.
I didn’t see this one coming, thought I could keep going ’til the
cavalry got here. Well, it was looking like the cavalry got lost
until I remembered, ‘there is no cavalry’. Been living in an insane
world for so long it’s stretched me gossamer thin, undermining the
foundations of peace. ‘You were doing good’.
Thought I was still the one who could walk on stage at 2am, like
Terminator, relentlessly sick with sleep depravation, no energy,
every lead boot step dragging me until the kick drum deals it’s
magic – new body arriving right on time & everything is ok.
Thought I could keep the kick drum pulsing in my head, sending is
adrenalised love, cutting through the daily nightmares. I’ve been
pushing other people’s rocks up hills for years, never sure why.
I listen, love & do the right thing – occasionally human, but
mostly ‘programmed’& all the better for it. I was standing rock steady
in a storm of abuse until the slightest of breezes knocked me over.
Embarrassed & ashamed I curl up with stomach cramps & shaking
sickness. Hacking into the bowl, wishing I could eat or sleep,
or be Arnie waking to the sound of laughter & things the way they