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Crawled from out of the wreckage, brushed placenta from my hair, no one was mindful, they were watching all the fireworks and so I crept off into this world, naked and wet with my horses left in some other place. It took me years to forget my other life, and I learned to ride a bike, how to throw a knuckler, that girls had secret things and that Santa Claus was a myth. And all these things took away from where I’d come from.
The universe recycles consciousness. It is a misnomer to say “ I was so-and-so in a previous lifeâ€ÂÂ. No, you are still so and so in this life and the next. I don’t know, I’ve forgotten. I had to learn my multiplication tables, how not to dangle a participle, who the father of the country was suppose to be, what the hell the philosophers and poets were talking about (the good ones, the mad ones, were saying ‘No, Christ, no. Forget about me, don’t fill your brain with me! Remember where you came from and why you’re here.).
I’ve forgotten and all the music in the world can’t bring it back, or the smell of baking bread, or a dead woodcock floating down a swollen stream in early spring.
I wrote three lines of the Kokinshu, I crashed my long boat on rocks in Nova Scotia, I danced into Kiev before their written history, I bought a weave in Jericho with a brown slave boy and a broke down mule. There is no karmic responsibility, no seven fold path, no elite 4400, the fate of faith is to believe in belief. There is you and I and all the other you’s and I’s, a co-mingling of bloodlines of sister, brother, mother and father, unborn and reborn. The fabric that ties our consciousness together is also that which ties us here, it is a forgetfulness. I forgot if I bled or meant to bleed, rose or forgot to rise, worshiped or regretted that first dawn and tomorrows dawn.
I don’t know another way to say this and I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. Remember how we kissed beneath the Cyprus? How I killed you under the constellation Taurus? How we reinvented ourselves through language? No, no you don’t. Our memory tempered in the blood of this new mother, the trauma of re-emergence, air in the lung and the sharpness of mortality in the flesh.
visited 45 states (90%)
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