SCOUNDREL NOTES
I may have coaxed you to walk the plank, I may
have wired your neck and eyes. I might be the
one who listened too hard at what you were
saying - as if something important was to be
heard. Now, my hands themselves are
microphones, and my stemware has no
device. I followed you to the little
cities. I stayed overnight, twice.
-
This is my personal story : disdain,
despair, distraction, disintegration,
detoxification, dementia. You
can take this trolley wherever
you may. I leave an opening
for you to bow down in, have
a picnic, lay back and nap,
pray, sleep or die in. In all
that you do, I offer you
this space. I am, truly,
yours; (yours, truly).
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