YOUR MIND IS A BULLET

today was a special day
It started with me waking up at nine o’clock instead of noon

as you know
I don’t work. I am jobless

and I almost never sleep at night
I go to bed at five or six in the morning

today I woke up earlier because of the heat
August is an oven

I don’t like air conditioning nor fans
So at home, it’s hot

there was another reason why I woke up early, and
That was yesterday’s meal

kebabs, pork chops, pork ribs
Etc.

I don’t usually eat meat
But when it is on the table, I try and eat as much as I can

out of shame or guilt, really
I think of the poor animal

so I clean the
Bones, but

then I can not sleep, because eating meat brings me
Nightmares

this morning’s bad dream went like
This: I was

…going somewhere on a bus, carrying something
Important (I can not remember what that was)

dreams, as everybody knows, have more to do with
Drama than comedy

in the dream, there was a killer who was
Waiting for me at my destination. I knew it

when the bus stopped at a rest area, I
Came down to make a phone call

there was no mobile phone
In that dream. It was a low tech universe

“do I really have to go through this?” I asked somebody on the phone
“Yes.” a voice said

that reminds me of Jesus Christ in the garden of Gethsemane; when he was
asking God if there is a way for “this cup” to be taken from him

I bravely climbed back on the bus
“F*** death!” I heard myself think

did that mean I was willing to fight the assassin or
Was I ready to accept my fate? I do not know

what
what are you supposed to do when you are about to die, but

to stay calm, and
To enjoy your last moment

.

I knew a man, an Armenian man
A cardiologist who worked in Algeria during the Soviet times

him and I met in 1999
We could speak French together when I didn’t know Russian nor Armenian

a few years ago he died of a
Heart attack

at night, he felt something wrong; he tried to stand up from his
Bed, but he fell down to the floor

his wife found him
She too is a cardiologist

her husband told her: “I
Am dying.”

she started to cry and yell. He told her: “Let
Me die in peace.”

and so he died, that good man
On the floor, in his bedroom, in the silence he wished for

.

this morning, I woke up from my dream
Unharmed

then I checked my emails, the messages and
Comments to the story I wrote the day before

there were interesting words from a friend; I like her observations
Very much

next I tried to write a poem, but
My words did not come out the way I wanted them to

so I turned to
Finger painting on the computer

by the time the new “artwork” was ready, my friend, the one I
Just spoke about, she had sent me a new message

“something happened that requires my
Full attention.” she wrote

with that she left
After she closed her blog

“how serious a person she is.” I thought
If she hesitated, her hesitation didn’t last long

she could be the president of any country with that
Quick mind of hers (seriously)

unfortunately for us, her friends, her sudden closing left us
A bit worried for her

“Good luck!” I wrote to her
“Come back when you can.”

.

it was getting hotter and hotter when I decided to
Get out, and go to sit somewhere

I took a book with me, a
Selection of poems by Henri Michaud

here are a few words
Excuse me for the clumsy translation:

TO ACT, I COME

Pushing open that door in you, I came in
To act, I come

I am here
I give you my support

You are not abandoned anymore
You are not in difficulty anymore

Ropes untied, your difficulties fall down
The nightmare from where you came back, stunned, is no longer

I give you my support

With me, you put
Your foot on the first step of the endless stairway
That takes you
That takes you up
That accomplishes you

I calm you down
I make ponds of peace in you
[…]

.

I live on the fourth floor of an apartment building located on the city’s
Main street

this afternoon, when I came down I noticed a flying gly
“How odd.” I thought, “here, at this time of the day.”

then I saw something
On the first floor, on the first step: Somebody’s crap

“shit!” I thought
Now that’s going to stay there until God knows when

because who is going to pick that up, and clean the place?
Nobody

except me, maybe
If I can muster the courage

not that human crap is so hard to deal with
It stinks, that’s all there is about it

of course, it is a message
From somebody to somebody else

not to me
That’s for sure

I don’t exist here
I am just the weirdo from the fourth floor, who doesn’t work

whatever!
That crap was there. I left it there

I went to my favorite place. It’s an outdoor café
Where the waitresses smile to me

there somebody I know saw me. A
Writer. He owes me a hundred euros

“shame on me.” he said
“Don’t worry.” I told him

what’s to do?
We spent three hours there

he gave me a CD, a
Recording of Charles Bukowski reading a few poems

I came home with it. The
Crap was still there in the staircase

after I got home, I
Removed my shoes, and put that CD on

it has music on it. Music in the background:
Rossini, Haendel, Wagner, Bach, Albinoni, Mozart, Vivaldi

that’s all good music, super! but
What a bad idea! Because what is that CD for?

today, for
The first time, I heard Charles Bukowski’s voice

.

if you shoot yourself in the head, the last thing that goes through
Your mind is a bullet

::: ::: :::

[Picture: A woman from the Hello tribe by reading_is_dangerous]