Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note"

for Kellie Jones, born 16 May 1959

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus...

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter's room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there...
Only she on her knees, peeking into

Her own clasped hands

Autore: Amiri Baraka

Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note"<br /><br /><i>for Kellie Jones, born 16 May 1959<i></i><br /><br />Lately, I've become accustomed to the way<br />The ground opens up and envelopes me<br />Each time I go out to walk the dog.<br />Or the broad edged silly music the wind<br />Makes when I run for a bus...<br /><br />Things have come to that.<br /><br />And now, each night I count the stars.<br />And each night I get the same number.<br />And when they will not come to be counted,<br />I count the holes they leave.<br /><br />Nobody sings anymore.<br /><br />And then last night I tiptoed up<br />To my daughter's room and heard her<br />Talking to someone, and when I opened<br />The door, there was no one there...<br />Only she on her knees, peeking into<br /><br />Her own clasped hands</i> - Amiri Baraka




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