In Search of Lost Time

12 Jul


in the middle of delirium
i wake up i don’t wake up
and i wake up again
my sheets are soaked
and there’s heat radiating
from my eye sockets
i connect to cholera
and from that to
achille adrien proust
marcel’s father
who tried to stave off
movements and causes of the disease
throughout europe and asia

involuntary memory
hermann ebbinghaus
“the episode of the madeleine”
i can never have normal dreams
it seems
none of that flying business
that falling business
i can barely sleep without labouring through
elemental functions such as breathing

it’s a horrible curse
not sleeping
nights are excruciating
i loathe nights
there is no rest at night
just more war
war all the time

then there is the inevitable fog that rolls in
hemingway called it his “black ass”
from time to time it sneaks into my conscious
and i get sidetracked
thinking about how to end it all
once i missed an exit off the freeway
debating whether it’s less painful to insert a bullet into the brain
or take a few handfulls of pills and finally go to sleep

somehow though
i seem to be possessed by a type of extraordinary faith
false as it may be
which holds me back
under the guise of moral virtue
damocles’ sword
only i’m not a man of power
nor am i a man of religious piety
but things are fluid
philosophies change
one day i’ll cut that single piece of horsehair
holding the sharp blade above my head
but not to-day


3 Responses to “In Search of Lost Time”

  1. Clay 12/07/2007 at 9:28 PM #

    I like this one. It made me think about a lot of things.

  2. Lx 13/07/2007 at 12:51 PM #

    thanks clay.
    it also made me think.

  3. slyboots2 14/07/2007 at 3:51 AM #

    I’m gonna take this one. And swill it around in my mind, like a good wine. And not spit it in a bucket when I’m done.

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