Wednesday, July 29, 2009
House Arrest
the idea is to keep me a semi-liberated prisoner,
prevented from leaving the country,
when actually I don’t want to leave the house.
I’m a prisoner inside my own head,
captive of grief and self-torment,
paranoid that every person outside will spit on me.
The cop who took my garland came back later.
“These tragedies happen all the time in Nicaragua
It was an accident,
You shouldn’t feel so terrible
It wasn’t your intention to hurt anyone
Even tho they are still going to try to lock you up for several years.
Do you want to read my Bible?
Is Jesus your Savior?
Look, thank you for trying to help, I appreciate your kind words.
I’m Jewish, and sort of Buddhist, but not really religious,
and I’m too distraught right now to contemplate any evangelical attempts.
They kind of make me feel ambushed
But thank you for your support.
(recycled throne by Otto Castillo)
Labels:
car accidents,
evangelism,
suicide
Heavy Mo/u/rning
Sitting alone in the cell, on the top bunk,
Looking at the blood on my clothes
Out out damn spot!
Rrrrrrip.
Rrrrrrrippp.
I tear the t-shirt first
Then the jeans
I tie them end-to-end,
Weaving in strips of a Vogue magazine someone brought for me.
(here! You killed 2 people and you’re in jail! How about some expensive fashion to cheer you up?)
a policeman checking on me thought I was preparing to hang myself.
Was I?
I don’t know.
I told him I was making decorations for the cell.
I wanted time to think.
He took my garland away.
Was that for my protection, or his?
The police had ignored or overruled 2 medical reports saying I needed urgent psychiatric attention
In their determination to keep me in this cell,
so I doubt they would want anyone to know I was actively trying to hurt myself,
or that I was loca enough to make decorations out of evidence
(mixed media painting/collage by Jessica Hirst)
Looking at the blood on my clothes
Out out damn spot!
Rrrrrrip.
Rrrrrrrippp.
I tear the t-shirt first
Then the jeans
I tie them end-to-end,
Weaving in strips of a Vogue magazine someone brought for me.
(here! You killed 2 people and you’re in jail! How about some expensive fashion to cheer you up?)
a policeman checking on me thought I was preparing to hang myself.
Was I?
I don’t know.
I told him I was making decorations for the cell.
I wanted time to think.
He took my garland away.
Was that for my protection, or his?
The police had ignored or overruled 2 medical reports saying I needed urgent psychiatric attention
In their determination to keep me in this cell,
so I doubt they would want anyone to know I was actively trying to hurt myself,
or that I was loca enough to make decorations out of evidence
(mixed media painting/collage by Jessica Hirst)
Labels:
jail,
police,
psychiatric attention
13 - Rupture
Now I’m the villain
In one second
That you can’t even remember
As though between going to bed and waking
You become The Bad Guy in the movie
They call you, YOU,
The Accused
The Criminal
What happened?
Why are people using these familiar words in reference to YOU,
Of all people?
You haven’t changed inside, but
Outside everything is different,
You can never return to your previous identity,
Your Self is divided between Before and After
Two sisters died
Although it seems impossible to accept that you had
something to do with their deaths
The Universe has ruptured, and I am trapped inside the tear
De la buena a la mala
En un segundo que ni recordas te conviertes en La Mala de la pelicula. Te llaman la acusada, la criminal. Y no entiendes como paso que estan usando estas palabras para referir a vos. No has cambiado como persona por adentro, pero por afuera todo es diferente, ya no puedes regresar a tu identidad anterior, porque hay dos hermanas fallecidas, y aunque parezca imposible sus muertes tiene que ver con vos. Siente como una ruptura en el universo.
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