The anticipation had been building up a while and the tremors made it hard to handle the spoon, the candle and the leather strap. Still he finally would find his way to the land beyond the dumpsters of crushed dreams. To the glittering hope of what he recalled from his childhood summer beaches.
In the clear drop on syringe-tips he thought he saw glimpses of freedom.
Once he had found the right vein his shaking miraculously ceased, and he became totally calm. Slowly he watched the needle penetrate his skin, right next to a line of scars that wormed his arms as a legacy to his dark mistress.
Snowflakes melted on his hands as he crossed the threshold to azure dreams.
He wore a frozen smile on his face when he was found the next morning. It was a mask of the joy he felt in his last entrance to the land of the free. The harshness from his face was now gone and the summer boy had once again resurfaced.
When acid dreams melt his iron face, he’s once more building sandcastles.
A couple of weeks I learned about the technique of “american sentences”. A fascinating way of composing haiku invented by Alan Ginsburg. I tried to combine this with Basho’s haibun to tell a story. This is my second effort, I hope you like the effect.
This is also my 900’th blog entry. Only 100 left to the magic of 1000 entries.
December 11, 2013