“My mother who died young In an outlandish rhythm Would have been seventy now And perhaps dead in funeral time. So I may start to mourn As I would celebrate The first or second birthday Of a still-born baby. - Out of Season” MourningPremature Death Book:The Survivors Source: The Survivors
“I am to be cured, now that summer is finished Harvested of my sickness, re-arranged for winter. Seven devils are not easily banished Nor the knot of blindness loosened by a quick knife. Outside, ignored, the July evenings saunter, I have turned back to my room, waiting for my life, Trying to recollect how the white drug fell Clogging my veins in an avalanche of sleep - Life Story” SleepIllnessOld AgeDrugsMedication Book:The Survivors Source: The Survivors