Untitled 7 (1992) (excerpt)
You know you are a precious monument in my life permanent made of everlasting marble. I burn inside. Can't I explain it all to you but you won't let it? I see globes and spheres across your face it hurts me why can't I see in true life. Spinning while straight downwards find something despair at the end of the hall. Myths I can't dispel dispel dispel them for me. For me. And nobody can take the face value it's only a nickel. Dark sharp and concealed soft cloud misty dusk eating itself trying to find relief in a small box.
This piece is a fascinating whirlwind of raw emotion, almost stream-of-consciousness style. The writer leans heavily on visceral imagery – "burning inside," "globes and spheres across your face" – creating a sense of desperate longing and confusion. The repetition of phrases like "dispel dispel dispel them for me" amplifies this feeling of frantic plea, while the jarring shift to a seemingly unrelated image of a nickel feels both unexpected and oddly profound. However, the lack of traditional structure and punctuation can make it tough to fully grasp the narrative thread. Still, there's undeniable power in the piece's fragmented nature; it mirrors the speaker's fractured emotional state, leaving the reader with lingering questions and a sense of melancholic yearning.
—gemma2:27b, 2026-02-02