Silver Bird Among the Crows 1996What is this sick relationship between pain, overeating and my creative energy/vulnerability?
My dreams are so intense at times; it’s as if chocolate turns a key
(or was it the immersion of my visit to my parents?)
Is it biology, or history, that unlocks the door?
I dreamed there was a whole family that hurt someone.
He was in a hotel room. He was me, of course, it was my dream,
And it went on a long time.
In the morning, barefoot, afterwards, he tracked them down.
Who would want to live that life?
Yet all my real writing has come from that center, from him
All I can connect it to is the sharing of suffering,
The cry of universal pain;
What happened to him in that dream and all the others of him
Did not happen to me, to my flesh, or did it?
So
