‘Scotomize’ by Walker Storz

800px-paul_klee,_insula_dulcamara
image by paul klee

Scotomize

Part I

I am a bad
seed, grew
rotten; a

Broken genesis,
wings clipped
at first fall

A circle breaking
and thus
losing its
momentum—losing the
horrible center

Proteins misfolding,
disorder spread
like

The body
breeding its
own madness

Cells limping,
losing their
integrity

Losing the
ability to
discriminate

No filters,
brain dirty and
hot—the smell
of

Rotten leaves
and car
engines leaking

Do you hear
me?  I cannot
shout;
I have
no audience,
I fail to
register myself
to the world

It will not
tremble like my
taut flesh, but
I wish it to

I whisper to the
world.  I tell it
lies through the
windowscreen.

I tell it to become
warped like
I view its
crystalline, perfect
germline and
insert my bad
thoughts into
It… I
birth small
hates: hatelets,
cubs, that will
be nurtured
by the cold
impassivity of
Nature, that
will suck
granite and sulfur and
cold
pond-water out of the
teat
of the world

In this eternal
present, no
time is redeemed

And I have
nothing to
do but wait for
redemption,
wait for a
time future or
time past to
emerge—
bacterium forming
from airless swamps

This whirlpool
is outside of
time—time
always comes with
room to breathe
but there is
none here

Neither segmented
worm-line of
time or the
sacred gelled
time of the gods

The whirlpool
collapses all time into a
now that
sounds like a
moan.  A now
that is a
“Please, no” to
life.  A now
that is begging
this now to
stop

The sirens screaming
no as they
are held down and
raped by
travellers…
The seductive
“No” that emerges
from the abyssal
entrails of
infinite pain

This is now from
the
center of the
world

Hope is a
phantom light that

wrecks ships

a mirage made of
bad air

A taunting
sweet
voice in the night
enveloping a muffled
scream

Part II

We have
whirled back
to the point

of origin. We
have the knife
in our hand

We have the
choice to
end things
before they
start–

I stare into
a glimmering
egg
light, and I
start to
tremble.  I
am finally
here, a place
beyond the
flux of life

A ground in
which being
and becoming
is birthed

I see
spheres growing
like supernovas
in stunned
silence

I hear Sylvie’s
voice,
behind my
ear, softly
I am with you
now

 A sense of
warmth and
expectancy
circles me;
whirling black
drapes

I breathe more
and more
heavily as I
approach the
point of
light
at the center

When I was
13 years old
I ran through
wind and rain
for 13 miles
before I
collapsed

I remember the
pain fondly, so
different from
the confused
dull pain and
delirium of
my abortive life
after

Lights flicker
on the soft wall at the
edge of this
clearing, playing
more memories

As cave-lit
shadows

Sylvie and I
embracing
in her
room, the
first I love
you

 I didn’t know
The line of
my life would
break
there, preparing for
another, greater
break–one I would
refuse to
feel until
far after it had
felled me

Then
Topanga Canyon,
spiralling into
view, a quickly
unspooling, shaky film
of gnarled pines
against yellow-
brown sand

and a line
traced: a
translucent
blueprint overlay
of a possible
branch of my
life writing
itself in time-
lapse

A bright hole
with charred and
bubbled
edges eating the
picture

Blackness intermission

I saw a white
room with
splashes of
angry red, a
woman being
split, a crumpled
face, covered
in a veil of
blood and
slime, pulled
out of
her

I felt a strong
pull
in my chest
and a feeling of a
wave
crowning on the
top of my
head

Now only the
light at the center
remains

The feeling of
Sylvie behind
me, a
whirling
pulse of
light in my
ears

I raise the
knife

A glittering
pure light floats
in front of me, staring
into me without
blinking

I hear soft, mocking
laughter, and the
chime of thousands
of bells

I drop my
hand and slash and
everything crumples

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