A Symptom of Health

Creating art, writing poetry - no matter how twisted or "weird" - is a sign that one still possesses a soul. That, to me, is a sign (a "symptom") of health.

 

Memory can’t reach far enough

To touch innocence.

But a stream, a sourceless silver chord is

Woven into my body, into this dark earth

Tears, rain, or the water of life

Traveling, trickling through

Skin, desert sand

Sliding down smooth stones

Of mountains, of kidneys

Swallowed, pulled

Deeper and deeper

By gravity

By bestial hunger

Heated, boiled, bathed in acid

And vomited up again:

A symptom of health,

Misunderstood.