Asylum Story

On a rural Pequot River, with steady New England flow toward Long Island's warming Sound Then on and out, whispering drowned memories of Atlantis Slumbering on eastern bank, surrounded by Native Elder spirit grounds, ruined medicine's monolithic altars worship insanely leviathan brooding bruised monoliths Stately asylums crumbling carcasses sagging with trembling memories of disability to remember sacred Mother's co-empathic presence. Naked Earth's noticing of past still present choices and voices speaking through cracked windows and abandoned door frames, peeling exterior landscapes, collapsed roofs with rotten root foundations Mumbly murmuring memories of past river fogged-in days and nights of terror Ruled by despots of European sanity secretly applauding wildly appalling bacchanal pleasure voices jumping into swollen tides for shrinking silent despair Unsteady loss of health and yet all wise-stately reasonable flow of wealth away diversely out toward wild remembering presence downstream straining severed screams of impolitic unpolite madness Intending to grow up a LeftBrain modern school for massive insanity Monoculturally invested dust decaying these submerged prisons of professional abuse and dispassionate neglect, oppressively irrational exculturation. Wild voices dismembering loving matriarchal presence of naturally nurtured persons Too entrapped by past terrors, chronic, climatic, psychotic prisons for muttering conversations between Ego's anger voice berating RightBrained voiceless fear of trauma's relentlessly modern ambivalence Quivering recrimination reiterating throughout drugged dungeon nights Historic monopolistic layers of mindless medicinal attendance drowning native rivers of basic neural noticing, thereby inducing rot Deep dark tidal waters briefly intuiting tender absence of co-invested narrow neural paths toward peak polypathic saturation Hiding in a forest of cracked and crumbling drives and walkways, virally seductive toxic infestation, depoliticized unspoken disabling history now weeding over. On this denatured Pequot River visitors violate gloom's ghostly despair, turning our backs to return to safer grounds No less trespassing HerStory's voiceless wilderness rotting recklessly profane Slinking down a slickly overcrowded river of ubiquitous fear investment in tumble-down sad urbanity.