They had to lock me up.
For the sake of science they said. The iron in my blood had turned into
plutonium. I was transformed into an interdimensional being who traversed both space
and time. I had ludicrous possibilities – ever unfolding in the shimmering of
dreams. They put me in the psyche ward, because I was
high, way too fucking high. They didn’t
have the instruments with which to chart my design.
‘Do you know
where you are?’
‘I’m in a
hospital.’
‘Do you know
where?’
‘Yes, here.
I’m in this hospital.’
‘Do you
remember my name?’
‘Should I?’
‘No reason
really.’
‘Why am I
here?’
‘You have
plutonium in your blood.’
Cascade and eclipse.
Another sequence of nightmare realities. This place is a meat factory.
They are out to get me. I hear them calling
my name. This is a world of paid
assassins cynical and cold. Down in the basement secret mind swaps create brand
new fictions. My identity is fluid and slips between the angles of things too
strange to ever define.
‘Do you know
where you are?’
‘I’m in hospital’
‘Do you
remember my name?’
‘Why am I
here?’
‘You have
plutonium in your blood.’
‘When can I
go home?’
‘We have to
defuse you first…’
Here at ground zero, my near fatal exposure has annihilated
my options. So they locked me up. But, I’m no danger to anyone. I just need to
leave this place. I want to go home. ‘Do
you remember my name?’ No, I remember
nothing. Let me out of this cage. I don’t belong in here. I’m just a radioactive prisoner playing stone
age games of fear.
