Saturday 19 April 2014


  when the flood comes
you have no home - you have no walls

F L A S H  C A R D

yep - she gave birth to me
changed my many thousands of dirty diapers

she fed, bathed me - nurtured me
she showed me things
love and survival 

giving her a grand-daughter
who she got to know briefly - the resemblance
is uncanny - stunning - running

panting - letting go eventually - and so
i swim to safety - still swimming
(preferably cold water - a lake or quarry)
this burden - weighing me down
catching my breath - not

stranded starfish have no place to hide
still waiting for the swollen easter tide


and so in the gradual fermenting of my formula 
in the tick tock thickening of my arteries, my shortness of breath
in my weakening knees and feet - hanging
winding the clock tight in suspension
until she stops

in the thunder crash
you're a thousand minds, within a flash

in the remembrance of all 
my careless conquests
the quickening

i remember her
having passed
ten years

lung cancer

her consistent tenderness
later in life succumbing - surrender
watching her relinquish her rhapsody
with the men in her life - one train wreck
after another - she had me - her little boy
her son, to ease the chronic pain
and suffering - albeit


it's like nothing matters anymore
and yet yes - it does
i can still move
forward without

waiting for my own cancer
to arrive

ah the good times
perpetuating circumstances
despite the odds

there's no point in direction
we cannot even choose
a side

and so we discover, all too late
that most medicinal miracle cures
are just a hoax, just a scam 
BIG PHARMA calling them "placebo" - ah ok
where the mind "thinks", it's being taken care of by fake medicines that cost a lot
some work, most don't

returning to

something more - meaningful
more spiritual

back to a time when there was hope
in a whirving whirlwind where nothing is certain
in a world where nothing makes sense except for us
the two of us rotating in redundancy
the moon orbiting the earth
orbiting the sun

yes, your train-wreck relationships with men
over and over and over again
still finding me
your reason

to live

first in your womb, in your sole creation
in your inability to connect and yet
in your ability to conceive

 and so what goes around, comes around
they call it "covert incest" in psychiatric circles
finding home in the familiar
in our children

what gives

bad things happen 
where's the good advice
it's all empty promises with no substance anymore
now that she's gone

  our so-called 'authorities' (doctors, lawyers, priests, politicians) 
have no idea what any of this means 
and fundamentally

don't care 

it's all about control
the caustic creative contagion contingency
the one they don't tell us about

what you don't know
won't hurt you

and hemorrhaging 

alone again

ok, it's not sexual
but it is dysfunctional


it's in all the tragedies and injustices
surrounding us on any given day
there's always her familiar

touch me again
i miss you

 deliriously defaulting
into a safety net that envelops us
in self entrapment

yes - a reason to live
inside this thing outside of me

returning the sustenance
in an ever diminishing dementia
lost voices echoing down
a long cold corridor 
well lit (funded) and yet

shimmering in short supply


 it's not what i wanted
this dependency

i don't want to feel dependent on anyone
and yet when you are sinking into the abyss
there's that certain sense of comfort
that comes from knowing
that someone is there
with you

i'm not a religious person
but i believe in god
i believe in her

only because she's the only reason
i wish to remain


coming home just feels good
no expectations and yet - yes here we go
it's clean, pure - no judgements
only real love

a love that can only come 
from a child

f l a s h  c a r d

 don't be afraid to cry of what you see
the actors gone

there's only you and me

and so where does this leave us
in a thousand years

i'd like to think that someone, somewhere
will remember us

dedicated to pansy edith batho
pat miller - april 16, 1932 - july 29, 2004