Reflections on the Level of a Cosmic Delusion I:
Omnia mea mecum porto
L. T. P.
At the time when I knew you, you wrote poems
and I went to those poetry events, imagining that you would be there
but what the hell,
did you not like poems
or did you not like events?
Not until years later did I have the courage to knock on your door
and even then merely on an astral level.
You had a nice apartment,
wallpapers and all
and you had built an orgone accumulator in your closet
regardless of what the landlord might think of it.
I wondered if you had a car
or if you had somehow managed to transport such an amount of aluminium by bus.
In a word I was impressed.
I myself at the time didn’t do much but walked back and forth the riverside.
My brain was a black box.
Recently I have discovered a new way to exist
but nevertheless I would hope that one day we would sit in a train in opposite seats
our knees not touching one another.