This one dated 12/6/70 called "Sides of the Crystal."
Get a drink.
This is a very important image to me,
the idea of being able to move into a many-sided, complex
crystal is perfect.
On this side, illusions scrape against the pavement.
Bits of gravel embedded in bloody flesh,
the woman lies along the hairpin curve.
I come into the view of the overturned Jeep.
It's a Sunday afternoon.
I am all right, she says, just need a moment's rest.
It's not the bared flesh I shy away from,
suffering to touch deeper.
But the best thing I can do is call a cop.
Mind must distort this pain.
Step into the crystal, where no love nor compassion reaches.
This is the elusive other.
It happens so fast you can't hold on.
The balance goes.
All the illusions, lamp glass shattering,
metal of a kickstand dragging in the pavement, then the body,
and gasoline dripping from a tank.
I have been here before.
Who is the person watching?
Who would help?
No place to put the pain.
You can only return to a world of feelings.
I'm all right, I say, just need a moment's rest.