Curse

The moment I get up in the morning I start dreaming. I wake and find the bed surrounded by enforcers. Teeth reach out from the mirror, The seasons of hell cycle each day and each night. The open eyes gaze at the wall, Gaze at the earth covered with makeshift sickbeds. The century's absurdity is realized in the infant's faces. Enforcers and victims must live on in mutual dependence. Road to the past have never existed. The minute I get up in the morning I began to remember, The boat of thought sails along the river of thought. Limpid water flows --- where to ? Don't expect to fish out your own reflection. At dawn the end can already be discerned. Silence along, the mighty weapon, is exerting its force: No talking, no singing, no crying. As if quietly switching off the light at bedtime, Let the earth return to its primeval calm. Let stars continue their eons--old games. People waiting to die are gaping like fish!

Writing date 1987, Oakland, California. Posted on Jan 9, 2018.