Tuesday, October 26, 1999

Upon Talking with Cameron, Age 2

Upon Talking with Cameron, Age 2

A child
possesses wisdom
beyond its years,
like senility in advance.
Talking with a child
makes so much more sense
to me than with all these
mad mad
walking around with their heads full
of opinions
and attitudes
and numbers and letters,
all hopped-up
on experience
and "wisdom",
the more you know
the less you know
for sure,
and the less you know for sure
the more mad you become
and the cycle is enough
those who actually think and observe
as children
all they have learned
as adults,
as it is presently trying to
KILL me.

Talking to a child
can be not unlike
the primal soothing nurturing touch of a lover,
calling up the same senseless beautiful
white-noise clouds,
like the gentle arising from a childhood's dream:
-worlds in dust particles-
-galaxies of reason in soap bubbles-
-momentous meanings in seasons-
-imagination and reality sleeping together in the same bed-
you can have all of this
when you get older too-
but imagination and reality
won't just sleep,
they will fuck;
imagination will rape reality
and then
reality will gain the upper hand,
brutally and violently
violating the imagination,
the bed is soaked in blood,
and the mind screams
sending electricity
along ice-blue veins
to bloodshot eyeballs
staring blindly,
at a grown-up's world.


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