Frankenstein vs. the World

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I finally finished David Wojnarowicz’s Close to the Knives when I was in nyc a couple weeks ago and it was so nice and like a reminder of something I’d forgotten to just read writing again that’s so excessively beautiful.  For instance:

How the world is so much like dream sleep with my glasses hidden somewhere along the windowsill above the bed; there’s a slow stir of measured breath from next to me and through the 6:00 a.m. windowpanes I see what appears to be a dim forest of trees in the distance, leafless and shining, but it’s just some old summer plants in a windowbox gone to sleep for the season.  I think of these trees and how they look like the winter forests of my childhood and how they were always places of refuge: endless hours spent among them creating small myths out of myself alone or living in hollowed-out trees or sleeping in nests twenty times larger than the crows’ nests made of sticks instead of twigs.  I realized then how I always tend to mythologize the people, things, landscapes I love, always wanting them to somehow extend forever through time and motion.  It’s a similar sense I have for lovers, wanting somehow to have some degree of permanence in my contact with them but it never really goes that way.  So here I am heading out into the cold winds of the canyon streets, walking down and across avenue c toward my home . . .

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Tags: casper, friendly, ghost, the.

Hey you
You’re getting closer to the box
And when they close it and they put it underground
You’ll have no way out again

There’s only one horse
And 20 riders
Only one of them
Will get to ride it
And all of the rest
Are gonna have to see it go go go
Choo choo da do

I think I might’ve built a horse
Out of the bones you have left behind
And all the blood that I have puked since I
Found out I have gas in my veins
Choo choo da do

– “I Think I Might’ve Built a Horse“, the Beets

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