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.