Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note
(For Kellie Jones, Born 16 May 1959)
Lately, I've become accustomed to the way The ground opens up and envelops me Each time I go out to walk the dog. Or the broad-edged silly music the wind Makes when I run for the bus...
Things have come to that.
And now, each night I count the stars, And each night I get the same number. And when they will not come to be counted, I count the holes they leave.
Nobody sings anymore.
And then last night, I tiptoed up To my daughter's room and heard her Talking to someone, and when I opened The door, there was no one there... Only she on her knees, peeking into
Her own clasped hands.
Amiri Baraka (LeRoi Jones)
|