Sticky Sweet Mother

from india diary:

november 13

i love you all and i wish i could see you more

all your faces become one

but i was swallowed by the ever unfolding road

i am loving it being back in my other home

the hot black night brings me back to the womb and i am ecstatic free lunatic here

dark jungle velvet starless night with thunder clapping the earth like a bootie smack

everyone has gone to bed and the neon bulb illuminates the hallway, all the americans have gone to bed some complaining of the wildness here, spicy food, pollution, traffic and general chaos that is everyday life here in india

i sit awake and alone so exquisitely aware

awake when the rest of the world is sleeping

i smoke my beedie cigarettes which are rolled in dried leaves not paper and which open my third eye and get me high

and i sit alone

a woman alone

as always

a woman has sat alone

'with my thoughts

but they do not bother me

they run like an unfolding stream a ribbon of time that eats itself

that is the nature of the mind

like clockwork, like time

and here time is eaten by space

but i remember

i remember all the way back to the beginning before the sword of time

and before there was that logic clicking away the minutes of my life

there was this feeling in my heart

like a gasp of air in a deep wet ocean that never ends

i crawl from the belly of this primordial soup to peer at a new event horizon

i long because i live and

i live because i long

and i am not afraid

not afraid of the terrible calling of my own heart in the naked wet jungle night

the air so thick like black velvet that threaterns to swallow me whole like the snake swallowing a frog i saw here yesterday

in the jungle night i see rats skirting the walls and spiders in the halls and skinny dogs weeping as they dig for morsels of food in the trash we left out

and i think of a lover home and cant make a call

and i think why am i trying to call somewhere around the world in the middle of the night?

and i know i just want a compartment to put this longing into

but no matter how many containers i have

they will not contain this sleepless wakeful longing

i say yes

thirsty thirsty always thirsty being quenching in the belly of the

sticky sweet mother here