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A twin-tailed comet & Heaven's Gate.
A family dinner & discussion.
An #autistic recipe for vodka, neat, with a disaster chaser.

#Neurodivergent reality hits different.

#ActuallyAutistic #CripLit #Disability

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Content Note: religious trauma, Heaven's Gate references, suicide, family conflict, alcohol. One autistic voice… 71

In Markdown format, cuz, well we don't have formatting on this platform.

# sneaking my mother’s creepy g-d on high

### Prelude, December 1997

“Where should I look?”
She asks breathless,
Trudging bootless.
I barely hear her
Over the crackling snow
Beneath my feet, but say,

*“There…* There's Heaven's Gate.”
She fiddles with the binox dials.

I point again, *“There…*
That smudge in the sky.”

Thirty-nine bodies
In matching Nikes…
I close wet eyes
To the hiss & sizzle
Of the arcing Aurora
Over my head,

Silence

Then the cold murmur
of the cold mother...
*“That's* why they died?”
She shrugs.

My eyes open… careful, I shrug,

“Maybe… they saw a signal from aliens.
Or maybe God on high.
Who knows what grimdark sign
They read that silent night…”

Wordless, clueless… a comet sailed
Ribbons of green and purple light.
One cold blue, one hot pink tail
Fading from history’s sight…

So we stroll on into
Fake New Year’s dinner
Cuz not everyone
Could schedule in
The Real One.

*How rare it is*
*A two-tailed comet in the sky,*
*A lover doesn’t lie with her eyes,*
*To greet one free man before you die,*
*How rare it is*
*How rare it is*

### Dinner Music

my mother in a halo of candles
my mother wrapped in smoke
my mother in dark shadows
measuring the length of my rope

She gathers reports from her children
This year’s fugue & pedal point,
Her table a feast of sand.

Youngest Mark files his,
A new open source project…
“I’m really getting seen.”
Lifting my glass to him
From the dark walnut table,
I sip vodka… Neat.

Martha next, from her foreign outpost
A well-received talk given…
Vodka. Neat.

Second-oldest Luke comments,
Wearing a dead father’s mantle
“So proud of this my family
Progress on nearly every front.
John, you seem…
Well, better… strangely.”
Yeah. Vodka. Neat. And deep.

Mary reports a year in faith.
Jesus gave her home.
Jesus gave her kids.
Jesus gave her strength… alone.

I close my eyes in frustration
See only those twin tails
Sailing in that dark…
No wine, no wafer
Just vodka. Neat.

The broken mother nods,
Waves a weary hand at each.
Then turns to me,
Product of her first postpartum,
Eldest stranger at her table.
She faintly smiles…, “John?”

This last-invited autist
Drunk to a numb survival
Starts slow… and slurred,
“Ya know…?
Never… believed… in heroes*.*
Those guys & their comet?
*They did.”*

I hear hands tense,
Casual wear shift & rustle,
Eyes crinkle & narrow…
Familiar, family sounds.

My runaway train
picks up steam
plunging on and into
a dark tangential tunnel

“A part of me rejects a g-d
born perfect without sin,
casually tossing miracles
like candy & coins… sublime
from a gaudy Mardi Gras float
To kids playing in the grime…”

I gulp a breath.

Silence

a child, high on a stone altar
a hand… a knife in mid air…
a sacrfice for appearances
like thirty-nine bodies
in matching Nike pairs…

*How fair is it*
*Jesus* and *Jim Jones*
*Both got emails from Beyond,*
*Love rusts til*
*It’s just one more bond,*
*Your soul’s released when*
*Your last day’s dawned,*
*How fair is it*
*How fair is it*

### Interlude, January 1998

*Flash Cut*
Couple weeks later
Ice Storm of ‘98.

Frozen in time, frozen in mind
Aunts, uncles and cousins
*No one’s* got power, trapped…
Cabin, cards, liquor… discussions.

Killing time… 3 days…
Instead of each other.

*Oh shit.*
Under my breath… “Damn it to Hell.”
Then head down, out loud,
“Oh, Shit.”

I’m looking at the cards I'm dealt.
So many near-miss combos
So many runs that went nowhere…
“My bad. I shoulda played that 9
My mind’s off wandering again
Let me grab that back. This time.”

“No…
You gotta drink …
Ya *gotta* drink!
This time…
Every time!”

Rinse repeat
Mistake over mistake
Vodka neat, vodka neat
Vodka…

I… wake to… laughter

“Uncle Johnny, you’re the dude
From stuck up cunt
To puking your shoes.
Man, can you *let go…* when you want.”

And let go... I did.

*A distracted juggler drops his satin ball,*
*A drunken knife thrower ties assistants to the wall,*
*The smoking fortune teller wheezes, “Doom finds us all,”*
*A Ring Master’s whip echoes through an emptying hall….*

### Cadenza, for the End of Time

My catechism asked
*Why did that g-d make me?*
*I* ask
*Why did this unbonded mom have me?*

To follow a comet into…
Desperation
Dissolution
Suicide
And the Peace…
Of no need for understanding?
Ever again?

There is no hero
No god
No bodhisattva
That does not hide
The dazzling Confusion
In a burning bush

Or explains to me
Like I’m a five-year old
Why that twin-tailed comet
*Still* sails across my mind

*How rare it is*
*To find a god*
*Doesn’t want more*
*Than he gave,*
*A lover who can stay…*
*Even while I rave,*
*A man who can live*
*Not caring if he’s saved,*
*How rare it is.*
*How rare it is.*

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Click for more neurodivergent poetry that rips reality open:
https://johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/p/spoken-word-poetryf

@actuallyautistic #actuallyadhd @actuallyaudhd @neurodiversity