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JUMP THE TURNSTILE
​Dylan Thomas said Do not go gentle into that good night,
& as far as — know — never did & instead rage,
raged against it  — cannot tell you how many nights
got swallowed up & how every stranger seemed more
beautiful than the last when — could not go
straight home without blacking — brain & taking
whatever anyone offered with only — toothbrush,
underwear, identification in a bag & never enough
money for all the drinks it would take to get there & --
knew what — was doing, denying reality its agency &
— body allowed it, was all for it in fact  — never even
woke up with so much as a headache, just a soft-edged
pocket of loss & — friends gave — funny looks when --
asked Where did we go last night again? or Did we have
fun?
 but it did not bother — not to know & unconcern
was bliss because sometimes people go into the
night & do not come home, so much of your life just
isn’t yours & all your plans & persistence can be
swept away in a second that has nothing to do with you
& reality denies you agency every single day but Simone Weil
said Grace fills empty spaces, so in a way — was taking
the only action — could by nullifying — own agency
altogether so that it couldn’t be taken from — because
that felt like the closest thing: weaken the brain’s
connection to its cells so that memories cannot take hold
because without memories life is like a familiar &
undemanding story about a character very much like
yourself, a character you feel little attachment to & no
responsibility for, really — just watched her blaze by, but
Sylvia Plath said There is a charge, a very large charge
& — can tell you there is but — would have paid it,
would have paid anything & many nights — jumped
the turnstile, laughing at the echo of — own laughter
down subway tunnels & — have woken up
wondering how — even made it to bed & the brain has
left the body behind for dead over & over again  --
have profaned & discarded the self but limp & sly &
with stones in her pockets, she crawled back into m     e 
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