f o r k s * & * s n o w ~

staggering insanity from relations. fork in my eye, run screaming through streets level insanity. who is blind? ignorance. winding in intensity.

promptly resurfaces in nightmares ~
waking hours not bad enough apparently.
in they come,
to visit & taunt in sleep,
deepest layers of oldest pain,
robbing sleep of succour,
rest of meaning,
wake with head full of anguish
on bedrock of exhaustion already

snow grinds city to halt. library apparently "cannot" open. people in winnipeg must howl. -30 degrees with metres of snow there... this small sprinkling halts our whole fine city in its tracks. strange white light, muffled quiet, grey skies temporarily banished as white white white prevails.

these grueling days of limbo do not enchant. walking between the worlds challenging enough for most sensitives. with a radically ill body & regularly blocked channels, while surfing high tsunamis of symptoms, & staggering volleys of 'family' drama makes it well-nigh impossible at times. the spiritual life is also patience, surrender, prayer; i do understand. turmoil lately immense. here i sit. poised. borderlands.



even jacob wrestled the angel.

let me see the mark death made
i dream a highway back to you...



i dream one friend sunk in a deep hole, wrapped in himself, tightly bound, refusing all warmth or contact. i email to check it out. 'in a bit of a rut' he concedes, burrowed deep in his hole.

i dream an old roommate & i exchange fripperies & soupcons of montreal nonsense, intellectual banter. hour later, contacts me in waking life.

worlds become transparent, information sifts through, questions hang in the air, unanswered. but not predictably. not on request somedays.




i want my insides like this snow ~ white, soft, pure, open, loose, wonderfully soothingly bland.

gillian croons 'i dream a highway' and the languid dissonant tones, haunting & consoling, wrap me in their aural comfort. snow banjos & forked tongues. jangling guitars & intoxicating dissonance. the sweep of a resonant chord, the plucked string, the slight 'off' of a missed beat. unwinding, ever slower, ever more languid, as the whole damn song transpires to vapour...