In the House of the Hangman 1097

Life could be worse though. There’s some interesting stuff happening in here. As a young’un, back in the days of landlines, I recall my folks telling me to get off the phone during a lightning storm. I ignored them and dismissed their warnings as frivolous poppycock. But then those tornadoes hit New York and I witnessed some bona fide MythBusters shit. A gentleman named Harry, aka Black, aka Planet of the Apes, was on the phone when lightning struck. The sky got crazy, there was a sonic boom and a MEGA flash of light—from across the room I saw Black sprint 20 feet while holding his underarm/heart area. He slowed down, turned around, stumbled back ten or 15 feet stuttering, “It hurts, it burns,” and collapsed. At first I thought he was playing games, ‘cause we like the jokes in here, but it soon became apparent that he wasn’t moving at all. At the same time, these brown phones that the COs use to do their counts started ringing, eerily. The CO on duty was kinda on point and tried to call in the emergency, but his phone was dead. He started banging on the door screaming, “Phones are out! Code signal three!” Dudes were going crazy, running around — and the other two phones were still being used, unbelievably. More COs and nurses rushed in and ordered the 45 inmates to get on our racks while they tried to save Black’s life. I didn’t have a good view of what was going on, but it seemed like a heart attack. He stopped breathing, so the nurse gave him CPR and brought him back. They had some sorta defibrillator machine hooked up to him that told the nurses what to do in a robot voice. I guess I have to give them credit. We could hear them slapping his face and shouting, “Harry! Harry! BREATHE!” Shit was real. Of course, it took the EMTs a half-hour to get through the labyrinth of security, and then they chained him to the stretcher so it probably took him an hour to get to the hospital. He made a full recovery and is back on the block now, loudly declaring, “I’ve been shot, stabbed, electrocuted, and I’m still here! I must be here for a reason! This is a wake-up call!” So here is an old picture of me with a baby squirrel. 10% of the people I showed it to thought the squirrel was cute, the other 90% compared it to some kind of horror movie character because of the huge scary paws. To apply Kristeva: I am from / in / of Kansas like gross things are from an orifice (!?) How to be not the subject or object of Kansas? How funny to be this perverse state’s abject! “Instead of ant wort I saw brat guts.” This was not automatic writing, automatic listening would be more like it … y mi cabeza, de súbito, parece querer salirse ahora por mi útero como si los cuerpos poéticos forcejearan por irrumpir en la realidad, nacer a ella, y hay alguien en mi garganta, alguien que se estuvo gestando en soledad, y yo, no acabada, ardiente por nacer, me abro, se me abre, va a venir, voy a venir. … Quiero ver el fondo del río, quiero ver si aquello se abre, se irrumpe y florece del lado de aquí y vendrá o no vendrá …

[Note: Sources: “Burt Burykill”, “I SAW AN INMATE GET STRUCK BY LIGHTNING THROUGH THE PHONE”, at Vice, 26 Sept 012; David, “So here is an old picture …”, at Dinu Lipatti’s Bones, 26 Sept 012; Anne Boyer, “Who once had a master is how the gaze forgetfully directs”, at ////PATAPHYSICAL INJURY, 26 Sept 012; epigraph to In the American Tree, and Bob Perelman, as quoted in John Latta, “Notebook (Ted Berrigan, Bob Perelman, &c.)”, at Isola di Rifiuti, 26 Sept 012; Alejandra Pizarnik, “El sueño de la muerte o el lugar de los cuerpos poéticos”, as quoted in Elizabeth Zeiss-Banks, “Images of Melancholy and Mourning in the Works of Remedios Varo and Alejandra Pizarnik”, at CiberLetras 13 (“ … and my head, suddenly, seems to want to come out now through my uterus as if the poetic bodies were straining to erupt into reality, be born to it, and there is someone in my throat, someone that was gestating in solitude, and I, unfinished, burning to be born, open myself up, it opens me up, it is going to come, I am going to come. … I want to see the bottom of the river, I want to see that which is opening up, is erupting and flowering from this side and will come or will not come …”)]

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