When I was
a midget,
my uncle played me
a song.
This song
made me want to stick
a fork
in my ear
and the other end, the pointy end,
in an electric socket.
It was that horrendous.
My uncle asked me
to guess
what the lyrics were.
I gave in
and listened.
There was no fork in sight.
I replied,
"I wanna die."
He fell over,
hysterical.
Those obviously weren't
the lyrics,
but this memory,
this dip into the past,
made me realize
I have always been
fascinated by death.
The end,
I'm convinced,
has been on my mind
since
I was in the womb.
It's permanently
a part of my genetic code
and there has never been
a desire
to let this fascination
go.
No comments:
Post a Comment