BIG little soul


It means something to FEEL a thing

Not the word; not the definition but the noise it makes inside you—


Big little soul my mother called me

Big little soul


They said

“Well, emotions are the product of past life misery”


Desperate, I again asked:

“I’m just an adult in a child size body?” 

the answer always: “Yes”


This is your life.

My life?


Years later after they reviewed and viewed

my mother as: Probably Degraded  and I found her

on the streets half-mad with belief


I reached back to our years of bleak labor, uniforms & statistics,

the blank stares of dreamless children —

the corridors dim and rancid


It takes as long as 10 seconds between

a European man chasing purity pouring water over the sauna coals

and the rush of Hellfire steam in our eyes, our lungs–

the stumbling out, the fighting  for breath


The woman screamed: “Get back in the box.

Do you want to be a tiger or a dilettante? “

A tiger she would answer for herself


The hours spent sweating out my child sized body’s poisons while

each day passed outside: the shrieks of school yards

letting out, humming cars and raucous nights


The adult sized bodies described them as:

 drugged up, degraded, all  living criminal lives

and I was empty inside except for the silent wishing

to be happy someday and made of such things


The sauna gave me fevers, gave me heat and wet

and everywhere around me the skin of adult sized bodies

pressed against the skin of my child size body—the heat

rising to the high bench — the only space I had left


As Florida grew thick

I learned when you live in a hotels garage while being “redeemed” 

shame is hotter than a sauna 


The sauna was underground 

and entered through the bowels of the building

low and deep, and it darkened with each step down


The garbage room decayed around the corner

covered us in its stench when the door was opened


The black & blue filed by heads down, tending the waste

as I listened to the adult sized bodies

forcing me awake, forcing me to drink, forcing me to run

my lids hung heavy in the air humid and buzzing around me


Dizzy, they said to drink and drink and drink more water



Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 


I sometimes dreamt my name meant something —

as if big little thetan was my power


Years later desperate, alone—I asked:

“You mean I can just crash on your couch?”

And he answered: “Yes”

Adding that he had things and drinks in the fridge he would make us..

I didn’t ask the price

There must be exchange


The woman who pushed me back inside

the sauna yelled my full name when she called me


“Mother” became the name

I didn’t speak of except for inside me


Today I celebrate my mother’s smile—

when I visit—

and I know this means she recognizes me


I now understand I had no power


I want Scientologists to live

through WWIII but crime is what is never named:

the outside full of poison


But I can’t control the fever rising, I fall asleep and wake

with the woman standing, yelling — 

her adult sized body looming over me; 

the Hellfire steam,

the sweat and stench and poison


Do you know what we call people who aren’t saving the planet? Degraded!”

and I start awake and am standing inside the sauna —

nothing near me but secrets and sweat


Degraded. They said. 

They said: save the world but —


Let it mean something to feel a thing


Let big little souls feel a thing for as long as 10 seconds


 Let a thing listen


 Let me listen to the love that took two decades to find me


 Let it mean something to feel a thing


Please follow and like us: