October 27th, 2018
I'm writing you one last time,
Monica
Norleen
It was nice to see you that
morning at the station
I'm sure you were a warrior
in a previous incarnation
Mia must have been a rabbit or an ostrich
Or a pile of trembling leaves sewn
together with cross -stitch
My anxiety has been
holding me hostage
I've developed this problem
with a really tough itch
I went to the clinic to
get a prescription
Cried a little in front of
the physician
Ointments and sedatives and antibiotics
Went home with a bag full
of legal narcotics
The best is the sedatives,
they work well but softly
I don't scratch myself in sleep,
I pass out like a baby
When I wake up I'm rested,
I'm calm and happy
The only bad thing is the strange
dreams that haunt me
I'm deep in the woods,
in a village with teepees
The branches from old
oak trees hang heavy
A woman carrying a baby greets me, says she's glad that I came,
she's been trying to reach me
She shows me around, the villagers are happy,
they give me some wine and flowers to greet me
Their society's based on a
loose form of anarchy
They've dealt with the climate,
injustice and patriarchy
Cause this is the future,
I can tell from their technology
But they use it for good,
and they use it so sparsely
They are not but slaves under
their own machinery
The cogwheels turn only when
they think it's necessary
And the woman grabs my arm,
she looks me in the eye
She's contacted me,
cause she's worried about her time
This fu ture is only one of many lies
That we can potentially walk down,
you and I
When I wake up I giggle,
cause it seems kinda cringey
I think about their village,
what a bunch of fucking hippies
This must be because I
read that book by
Marge
Piercy
Where some people from the
future make contact with
Connie
A wo man in a mental institu
tion in the seventies
And show her the world as one
of many possibilities
And instill in her the hope to
fight for humanity
I love that book,
but as a document of history
Cause now it seems strange to
hope for anything at all
When every step forward
seems in finitely small
Save the polar caps from melting
by recycling milk bottles
All the
CEOs are flying their pets to ski lodges
How vulnerable it is when someone
says what they want
Instead of just saying
what they don't want
How easy it is to laugh at
someone's utopia
After decades of being spoon -fed dystopia
I rub my cordless anointment on my eczema
I take my sedatives and crawl
up to the heater
Keep treating the outside,
ignoring the inside
Keep treating the symptoms,
not the root of the problems
And in my next dream the
woman's back again
And this time she's shouting,
cause her signal is fading
I wake up sweating, my skin is itching I put some ice on it,
then sit down in the
kitchen
And outside the leaves
are slowly falling
over pigeons, building
CEOs and children I'm gripped
by a love for this world that
we live in.
And I think about a quote from
Ursula
Le
Guin,
we live in capitalism,
its power seems inescapable.
So did the divine right of kings.
Any human power can be resisted
and changed by human beings.
There's a dying light in the distance
that beckons, as the clocks are rapidly running out of seconds,
this is where I get off,
reckon.
Take care of yourself, your friend
Jens
Ligman.