LEXICON DEVIL

Redefine everything:
the Language will protect you
from how slippery truth can be. In the Language,

if the stray bullet hits the man you love,
you may call it terrorism. If it hits the man you hate,
you may call it justice.

In the enemy’s night garden a red knife will be called a grey flower
and the white, misplaced faith of the children you just slew
will be called a mineshaft.

In the staring eyes of those young dead
there are mountains you find you can’t describe.
You see them now, you feel like you must have lived there once,

even if you can’t say it. Fortunately,
the Language you’re trained to speak will keep you
safe, warm, will hold you firmly as you step over the abyss.

This is your brain on alcohol. This is your friend’s brain on alcohol..and so is this…and there’s some more over there…

http://www.reuters.co.uk/newsPackageArticle.jhtml?type=worldNews&storyID=573875&section=news

I’ll be posting at odd points today. I’ll just update this entry, so keep checking back.

This is a second draft.

DEPRESSION, OFFHAND

The worst part is the sheer offhandedness of it —
how it happens suddenly not in response
to something obvious like disaster or storm-clouds but as an accessory
to good times, as if a just-acquired bauble was weighing me down.
Then again, the worst part is the sheer offhandedness of it

in the sense of emotional dislocation,
as if I were compelled to use an off-hand
in place of the accustomed one – reaching for the doorknob left-
handed and not right. Of course,
the worst part is the sheer offhandedness of it

in the sense of severed hands, my red stumps thumping
cruelly against the outside door, or finding myself unable
to fasten a bracelet, my arms upraised and helpless,
brandishing the remnants of utility as if the memory of utility alone
was enough to hold onto something.

Off-hand,
I would say the worst part is
the way your grip slips,
regardless
of the hold you use.