schizophrenia --

risky details, senses unworking, the mind

delivers itself to Chaos; the subtle

timing of Events, the known

schedule of implosion and

despair, the cycle

repeats itself; the

decor of madness is not Sterile, it

is populated

by the dead, by ghosts, by intimate

selves surging

through scratched Veins and

polished incantations to

achieve

dominion over the errant thought, the

villains

and the vanquished, the

tentative

mongrel strays

howling

at Murder, at Pain, at Substance -- all

imagined Posturing

proving

unreliable in the face

of Possession

and thatched insomnia -- We cannot

sleep, we grind

and seize, we reach

for a bottle

to secure us but the brain

bursts

through with incensed

hilarity to

Scorn us -- We but the

reeds

in the wilderness shouting with

the Prophet

for our Jesus

to help us -- but He is

Occupied, we

are quiet, here, in

these Caves, our hoped for Reason

betraying Us -- We

see demons in

their Eyes, sense

the Spirits

sharp with pure Incision -- We

are hustled

out in the street, sad and blue,

to remember

what her voice had said -- "God

loves you

and So do I" -- but

who is She, this girl, does

she know my

words have

crafted her

in

frenzied longing?

Love what is difficult,

said the poet,

draw it to you

and you will be delivered -- there is

No time for sleep, the

armies of night

descend upon us and pin our sides, jaws

set on devouring us -- "Would

you like to see the Nurse?" -- Womb-fed

and full of Fire, naked

with fear

on the bathroom floor, the rough beasts

here to comfort you

with stealth

and forgiveness; pray

for me, Sister, I have slipped

into

a worried World, a contorted artist of

my own trapeze -- they come

in the hundreds, incanting

violent rhythms

with a sagebrush dialectic -- She

explodes, bleeds, comes

to -- "Mother's maiden

name?"

Mother's maiden Mane, Father's eye,

i have betrayed

those who love me to go wandering in the street

on God's word, there marked

with ash

in tattered rags I will crawl to the sea

to repent, bathing

my wounds

in the Sacred Water; -- It

is there She will join me,

my pliant lover, She

who traverses

time and

place to Shelter my Shadow

in her Embrace: but she

is ether,

mercurial girl who would

drown me

before I knew her, digging

in the closet

for a belt to hang me with; She

Sold me upriver to the Devil

for my repentance: Would

I sully Heaven

with my Attic of Sins or have

I been banished

here

to Stand in Solitude forever -- The girls

laugh, the

pure angelic choir sings for me

its praises of

the unbridled Mind; Soul

is not Substance, it is

Hellfire, "It hurts

Mama, it's burning," --

and United -- together in my imagined

purity

we are One -- I am

an acrobat

who has forgone the Net, I step

out on Earth

with

snarling dogs behind me, the juice

in the old man's cup

drained

and Swallowed; they will

Steal your thoughts, they

know your heart, they

will constrict your muscles until you faint

dead away

without

sound or fury; here, in the

darkness

there are no Answers; there

are only Prayers -- We

suffer the knowing of acute

orations, we become

Sages

of our Pain, our

own intimate Saviours -- We can

bear it all

except the Fear, the

livid day's nightmare

Crowning us with Suffering -- Our eye

corners

itself in Silence, we call out

to our brothers

but cannot make Ourselves understood -- we become

Mute icons of a heretical Despair, shrinking

before

women, children; all of God's creation made Crazed

in our

enlightened machinations -- We

are the Dead, we

leave our Wives

in Purgatory and bend toward

the trees; there, the Sap bleeds

and we cry hard

stones instead of tears, we are

driven

through a pulsing wound to some Semblance

of Revival; -- We

Will wake another day

to Surface

and Survive --

*