the outsider returns

He’s back.

“A man who is 30, cooking spaghetti in the kitchen, and the telephone rings…” Ray Sweatman is back with an evocative poem he modestly says is based on The Wind-up Bird Chronicle. Slicing and dicing for a blog post, I gotta say these two verses really caught me… but then the whole thing is the whole thing…

Several hats hang on the wall
like a prized moosehead.
Several hats that used to be
what i called me. But I am
neither me nor moose nor
taxidermist.

and

Down here I do not know time,
Not the time we take for time.
Down here the stars. Down
here the light is real. Down
here the light is not some
decorative thing. The light
was so real that when it hit
Lieutenant Mamiya at the
bottom of the well, he
could no longer live in this
world; though his body
refused to die for many
years after, even after
losing several limbs
to numbness.

Go read it.

Posted in Arts and Literature
One comment on “the outsider returns
  1. ray says:

    thanks, buddy!

    ‘thank god the tiki bar is open
    thank god the tiki torch still shines
    now i know that drink aint no solution
    havent had one in seventeen years
    but if the tiki bar were closed tonight
    i think i might just disappear.’ john hiatt

    missed you guys!

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