Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
Poems in Letters, part 4

Dear Lucy,
 
I'm rattled. Every night a different rattle. 

This may be the weekend he dies. They're all gathering.

His knees are bigger than his thighs. He weighs 95 pounds. He's covered with 
lesions. He crawls around the house and if we don't watch him there's shit 
everywhere. 

Today the boy woke up early & came down my stairs crying Where are the clouds? 
It was before dawn and the sky was white.

Lucy, our episodic frenzies were undercut by embarrassment. 
surrealism and embarrassment and a humor like heated fur. 
It resembled a meditation but was more painful. It was romance. 
Slowly the rags crushed their paws into my chest. 
Lungs bleated as the aroma seeped from my nipples. 
I was still singing, sitting cross-legged with rags.
Dear Lucy, I said, your body is judicious...

Baffled reader of my own life!

camille



camille roy