Scott Sandwich: Origins

In the beginning I breathed in with a white light and I followed a line drawn for me

Not asking who chalked this guide in the floor for me

But then The Outsider pushed my prying mind wider

And once inside her I spun in the crisis

Like dryers in silence, the internal violence of existential child choirs

The quandary was fond of me and before long, you see,

I pushed boundaries with questions taking lessons less than appropriate

Messing my head for a boy of that age

I should have been simpler

Pushing pimples with fingers of ferocious rage

I’d turned to the page and pages turned like the door of a cage

Swinging open in hope and leading to light the way

I loved questions without answers taking chances on pirouettes by thought dancers

While other saw confusion as a cancer I refused this fusion and wielded my lance at this obtrusion

And soon I broke through to the freedom of my youth

Free to read Burroughs and Kafka without having an essay to answer

Because I read for me and not for, say, the HSC

Believe me

It cheats thee

The way Shakespeare treats his comic reliefs

And now there’s no longer a line, and perhaps it’s a climb, but I take one stronger step at a time

Entwined physical body and mind

Bells chime to remind me I’m not just following a little white lie

And I’m free to ask why

– Scott Sandwich

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