Saturday, April 30, 2016

Susan Hawthorne #121 nonsense

I am a nonsense I do not exist or if I do I am illegal and should be punished killed if need be in China I live and die in the realm of flies in my own land silence is preferred self-suffocation of words my history is full of horizontal lines none are vertical my position in the family is at the far end of a fragile twig ready to break from the main stem in the desert lands my bones are broken whipped into the centre of a sand storm vanished as if I have never existed under dictatorships I am among the first to be crushed my independence my nonsense a threat to social stability I fly from the trapdoors of planes no parachute to break my fall only the sea to catch me in its hardened arms in the cold lands they call me an artist sell my soul to that grumpy old Mephistopheles who’s never satisfied no matter how far I go I remain exotic a work of theatre at the centre of the empire the words are decorated with ribbons of acceptance dissertations are mined to snuffle out meaning there’s betrayal in those awards in so many places records are changed the archaeologies rebuilt and reshaped to other realities today I was murdered by someone sent by the government


  1. This is a fabulous piece Susan. A whirlwind of moving words and images that really hits home.

  2. Thank you. It's always reassuring to know that a piece hits the mark.


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