deepundergroundpoetry.com
accident time, or, love song for a ‘90s playwright
after and for Sarah Kane
how the mind fragments
and wakes
at forty-eight minutes past four
your plays
it could be said
were part a way of dictating
the breakdown of your inner world
that palace of despair
baroque depravities
crumbling brick by brick
until only roaches remained
as residents
one looking to the sun
and thinking with its insect brain:
“what sort of place is this?”
end scene
how the mind fragments
and wakes
at forty-eight minutes past four
your plays
it could be said
were part a way of dictating
the breakdown of your inner world
that palace of despair
baroque depravities
crumbling brick by brick
until only roaches remained
as residents
one looking to the sun
and thinking with its insect brain:
“what sort of place is this?”
end scene
Published 18th Jan 2022
Author's Note
“Here I am
and there is my body
dancing on glass
In accident time where there are no accidents
You have no choice
the choice comes after” - Sarah Kane, 4.48 Psychosis
https://youtu.be/ueQt7ENn9fI
and there is my body
dancing on glass
In accident time where there are no accidents
You have no choice
the choice comes after” - Sarah Kane, 4.48 Psychosis
https://youtu.be/ueQt7ENn9fI
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 418
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
18th Jan 2022 5:35pm
Fascinating. I walk away with the impression that a segment of the human population overwhelms itself with its own ideas projected outward, while the average insect accepts the environment for what it is and merely navigates.
Anonymous
- Edited 6th Dec 2022 00:45am
23rd Jan 2022 1:04am
<< post removed >>
