martes, 27 de septiembre de 2016

Fathers' Suicides, CR VocalesV

I saw a man reading Berryman in the subway
with tears in his eyes
and I knew I would never make anyone cry like that
and I felt sad and inadequate.
He saw me staring at him and I turned my head violently
upset with his intromission, breathing heavily, trying to calm myself down
I looked straight to the window
pitch black, light, light, pitch black, black, black, black.

I woke up at a hospital, I had had a panic attack
All I could remember were the dirty hands
of the stranger reading Berryman.
The nurses walked silently around, with their white suits and white shoes,
their hidden problems and obsessions.
“Alcohol, drugs?” None, I say. (My addictions come from other sources)
“Therapy?” Yes, I sigh. (More of a habit than a real solution)
You’re free to go. I gave her a timid smile, I waved goodbye.
In a corner I cried.
I remembered A’s words:
“If you have too much heaviness in your life you’ll be unable to move”
I can’t move, I thought, so I let myself slip down the wall onto the filthy ground
where I sobbed until sunset.

As I walked back
I saw you marching at the head of your soldiers
I saw blood running down your nose
you saw bruises in my knees:
“You have too much heaviness to move”
I heard you thinking,
while in reality you were yelling my name.
My name, that gave me an identity that I can’t figure out,
my name made of two syllables that you cut short to one,
You pronounced my name that day
in the same way as one pronounces an execution.

I bowed and when I lifted my head
all the flowers were burning.
And the flowers became men
and the men became corpses.


*In the photo Marina Abramovic
*The song played in the background is Amore (Ryuichi Sakamoto)

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