by Nate Simpson
[undated] – Does he ever know what he’s talking about?
19 July - My chest feels like it's on fire right along the sternum in line with my chin and I imagine the right half is light and free and full of the breath of the forest field and stream and the damp earth but at that midpoint the flail chest gives evidence to the life in the right side and illness and decay on the left it barely rising and rasping throughout its full cycle while within its dark cavity contains a lobe of undefined volume and smooth wet texture sticky to the touch and cold as though it inhales nothing from the external and respires nothing to the external and tenderly from the side of life and breath and that which is familiar I pass under that boundary of fire which forces a queer spirit upon my nature and a darkness further slips upon me and it’s funny that in this moment I have the paper the pen the want of writing but I am stuck here on the streetcar incapable of thought or idea worth inking I am stuck between poles of poetry’s minimal but strategic words or prose’s refined thoughts more developed notions and characters more whole and I wish I had my smaller scratch-book today as there are too many people looking over my shoulder on the 503 streetcar at Carroll Street where there is usually an exodus for the westbound Queen cars but not today as we angle off of from near the animal shelter where I picked up Duke those many years ago onto King Street we are bound to pick up more passengers more people that look at me and wonder what I’m doing more people that look over my shoulder at my writing which makes skin crawl just under the surface with wriggly black ant larvae and I don’t need this now as I’m on my way to the g.d. shrink.
10 Aug - All I want is for someone to relieve me relieve me relieve me from these fucking visions that make me want to gouge my own eyes with a spear a knife a stick a finger or with whatever I can lay my hands on and with that done cleave my nose from its mount render my ears deaf and dissolve my tongue oh my mind races with all such thoughts but I don’t want you to be disappointed with me when you find that I’ve taken this sweet sweet sugar yes let’s call it sugar.
