Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Indrid Cold and I

Obsessions, compulsions.
Check, double check, triple check,
Check, double check, triple check,

I paced the aisles in dismay. Check, double check, and so on. I could taste the stomach acid, the same that was eating my chest. Now in my mouth and the throb, insulin, light and sick. When they starve lab rats they become more active, survival. Checking, spinning the wheel, sleepless.

Neuroglycopenic manifestations: he was a child pulling on my coat tails. Expressionless. He held out the apple*, not an apple.
The apple.
Malus domestica.
The form.
Look this up.

Without opening his mouth he communicated "Eat, as form will never change"

Romeo and Juliet, I, IV

"Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace.
Thou talk'st of nothing."

MERCUTIO: "True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air..."


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