Friday, June 25, 2010

Styrofoam For Guinea Pigs?

write my name Do

Take my name

knocked on the door

Violently

And together some screams

in a language they did not recognize

gnashing of teeth

The bed was unmade, and I just lay

Even his memory

He could crease the other pillow

threw a look out

and Lübeck was waking

In a gray dawn and lazy

said something stunted in my preliminary

And the screams subsided

teeth grinding stopped

imagined bone fragments

On the small worn doormat

It opened

No fragment

Only patches of mud

and boots

and faces hardened by suspicion

and guilt and fear

Three men

And I on the balcony of the palace

What gave the Kloster

and scope of the city

Lubeck knows how to be a sad city

and the Baltic margin personal purgatory

My eternal Styx

Who are you like

Depart

I meant

But I knew who they were

What did

And that would leave

I was responding to questions

as a kind of childish game

that I had won

a treasure hunt

a cops and robbers

without guards or thieves

dodgeball

a hide

ended too soon.

No word

Pronounced scratched by the teeth

I was the possessor of the words

secret and prohibited

They silence

Play

What are you feeling?

Nothing

Silence

Among the cries

The tears and lamentations of this place

The Styx seems so far

In the midst of the

They have forgotten Lucifer

Or maybe even he has preferred

Leaving

die without sleep without dreaming

What is not so much God

In this place

Kloster So close to where I took the door

we spent

At my Lubeck and his gray sky

As the faces of its people

That seems a bit 'already dead

And perhaps this is a bit' more serene

Indifferent and tired

The floor is full

of bone fragments

Patches of skin

E stains

painted red blood

The walls and sparse tends

That much even the sun

Here comes

Who needs it?

Where am I?

skeletons talking around me

my fellow comrades in arms and

and adventure

Known as "The Place

Or Hell

Or Prison

I now call it home only

Because here I open my eyes

And here I close them

Every few hours

What out there

Par day they call

I can not even remember

My legs move

His smiling face

The my hands shake a wine

fragrant white

His glasses fog

And all things fade

As long as the world loses

In different planes

And I am convinced that once I was happy

living and true

That I had blood in his veins

and meat under the skin and bones

straight

and teeth and hair

and long fingers

And I had a name

I must have had

Everyone has a name

pass from

Sculpting

on a stone

A plaque

few letters

A handful no more

But both just

What more do you want?

But what my name?

I am sure that I had

But who knows if I will remember

Hey you!

What is your name?

Silence

No that maybe now is my

Silence.

Be silent.

Take my name

Here you die

As in any other place

everywhere I'm in my prison.

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