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A Suicide of Poets (CH14)
Chapter Fourteen
The Himalayas
I
She too, had hands of a considerable
appearance, yet, more adroit than
Hair_E.
[Her Hair_E]
She had actually taught herself
how to do elaborate crochet,
which she did in her favorite cave,
complete with fireplace and ventilation
shaft.
II
And it was in that off the grid cave,
in the middle of a snowstorm, that
Laya organized her life’s work
of both, crochet and writing.
Stacks of manuscripts and varying
one of a kind crochet projects.
To see her hands work was a
marvel.
Like sleight of hand.
She made things for the very few
friends, she made along the way.
She made a ninja hoodie for a
fox.
And…
Dive bomber suit for an eagle.
III
Feeling a vibration from across
the world.
She knew it was time to type
the manifesto.
She would take one copy with
her, leave one in the cave and
throw a third copy into the misty
morning, as she set foot down
the mountain, through trails
and pathways, across treacherous
places, which she did with ease.
IV
For so long, she lived amongst
white out blizzards and treacherous
conditions.
Such a primal source for words.
How she studied the endless
reservoirs of the abyss.
The source of the inspiration
for all things and all words.
For what is communication but
an attempt to light the darkness
of that primal darkness.
V
The primal darkness, in our
minds eye, to which we perceive
we must return.
Such a resonant thought.
Vibrating in the skull.
***
Cipher
Stories
***
The Himalayas
I
She too, had hands of a considerable
appearance, yet, more adroit than
Hair_E.
[Her Hair_E]
She had actually taught herself
how to do elaborate crochet,
which she did in her favorite cave,
complete with fireplace and ventilation
shaft.
II
And it was in that off the grid cave,
in the middle of a snowstorm, that
Laya organized her life’s work
of both, crochet and writing.
Stacks of manuscripts and varying
one of a kind crochet projects.
To see her hands work was a
marvel.
Like sleight of hand.
She made things for the very few
friends, she made along the way.
She made a ninja hoodie for a
fox.
And…
Dive bomber suit for an eagle.
III
Feeling a vibration from across
the world.
She knew it was time to type
the manifesto.
She would take one copy with
her, leave one in the cave and
throw a third copy into the misty
morning, as she set foot down
the mountain, through trails
and pathways, across treacherous
places, which she did with ease.
IV
For so long, she lived amongst
white out blizzards and treacherous
conditions.
Such a primal source for words.
How she studied the endless
reservoirs of the abyss.
The source of the inspiration
for all things and all words.
For what is communication but
an attempt to light the darkness
of that primal darkness.
V
The primal darkness, in our
minds eye, to which we perceive
we must return.
Such a resonant thought.
Vibrating in the skull.
***
Cipher
Stories
***
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