in moonlit hours
Samuel Akiva Pui-Ying Huang Skeist
in moonlit hours of perpetual introspection i use moonshine mixed with a twist of melancholy to seduce mummified memories. when they lay intoxicated, i steal their finger bones and pick the locks to my subconscious cellars. a black and blue womb birthed this emotional nomad left scavenging for scraps of self-acceptance and dampening my palate with dew drops of diluted truth. the comfort i've attained with my interpersonal awkwardness gets displayed at support group meetings for depressed pedagogues of sin, where you can catch me giving accounts of occassions when i danced in daydreams of flying away from my demons upon the wings of origami cranes i fold from unfulfilled suicide notes of my adolescence. these days i'm an amateur alchemist, turning mundane events into life lessons. in my sacred garden of solitude i climb amidst the branches of the wisest willows. up there, i freestyle with moody mandrills and sacrifice virgin temptresses of attachment to pay homage to the pen god. god, grant me the serenity to meditate with the fallen leaves until they deem me worthy for schooling in the art of graceful change, until then your humble student i remain. sincerely samuel skeist.
published in The Black Widow & The Brown Recluse, March 2003
published in fingerprints, 2003
recorded on fingerprints, 2003
website at Sam Skeist