turtles all the way down: a book i found in picu and desecrated with my delusions

        
       
with thickest fine liner i censured all names        
from the record        
       
ah, it’s only cryptic when you don’t have the key.        
       
hunched over my psychic love letter        
i cared only to erase all imagining        
that i was not at one with each and every character.    
       
     
i was        
confused        
       
i know now        
initiation never ends.        
     
they used to go into the woods, now we go into treatment facilities.      
       
how embarrassing for me        
to think myself a host        
     
of sluagh sidhe    
the ira    
and of course the nigerian cartel      
       
and forget about me: my child:        
     
she ran thru the hallway, having just learnt how to      
she grew twenty years in three months    
chapter by chapter    
and could be wiser than i...      
       
your voice rang out in my chapel        
in my steeple        
in my priest hole        
in the space where stone once stood    
   
and i found that under each fallen slab        
was the same skeleton        
in different clothing