here i am - sitting with this sunday in my hands.
i know i am going to throw it away. need years of healing
to get myself even to feel...
i dreamt strange things. i asked people i hate in dreams
to make me a dream plan - a house, a telephone conversation,
that would burst into fire works in the middle of a sentence
and then i could crumble into peace -
mania is not a disease, its a way of looking at the world
with eyes of endless video streams, running
hot water pipes in a cold snow desert, wanting to squeeze
your heart out in trickles of love
maybe i am ill
but i still want to make the best of my life-