hit by a poem

I was listening to Boards of Canada’s “Reach For The Dead” at work and out of the blue, lyrics. Words forming that wouldn’t quiet down or pass until I had written them down. 

Ok, poem. I hear you.

today I was 

plucked out of the 

oppression of time

and placed into

the void

vacuum of space


for seconds that 

stretched into

the expansive 

eternity looking into

the distant Eastern 


a place where

floating I could 

see everything 

forgot nothing

remembered once 

I woke to the

operating room

and it was like I had





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