Age and time. Shifting toward cancer, dementia, seemingly unstopable.
I take selenium from the sea. There are buckets of seaweed in my bathroom.
I am no longer a comfort to others or myself,
I grab my knife and a whip in my dreams smashing my stomache and back till the bones bleed and a hole erupts.
I take a knife and I cut off bits of seaweed that I eat in my silent kitchen.
I am taking selenium in doses that the doctor says isn't safe. I am taking selenium in doses that the doctor says isn't safe.
I drink beer to keep the seaweed down.
The highs of applause amplify the lows of my loneliness, once the hands have all stopped clapping, I can hear my stomach moaning.
Doubts about vision and intelligence - stop the spontaneous breathing.
Echoes of her laughter keep me awake. I am no longer a comfort to others and I climb a dark wall using a candle that I hold in my teeth. It is a dark moutain, humid and green. I climb into my bathtub and cover myself in the sinuous weed from the sea.
I am no longer a comfort to others.
I am taking selenium in doses that the doctor says in't safe.