One time I smashed a glass window with my bare hand. Smashed clean through & when I looked down at my hand cut open & the blood dripping, I laughed. I drank wine from a bottle & wrapped an old rag around the wound. My head became heavy, the floor below soft. I felt then like a bloodcovered man shuffling down a crowded corridor & the crowd making way. And my laughter was that of a mad god in the night.
Or when I noticed a growth on my back, a lump of some kind. I didn't like the looks of it. I heated up my cigarette by taking a deep drag then shoved the glowing tip right in there, right into the lump. The skin sizzled & I laughed as it sizzled. Laughed at how well I had doctored myself. I felt then like a village tattoo artist working strange patterns into somebody's skin, when in comes a mother crying what have you done to my boy, he looks like a beast now, he's pale as a ghost & won't speak. And my laughter was that of a mad god in the night.
Then there was the time I strung a bunch of paper up on a ceiling fan. Just hung the pieces from the blades & lit them. And once the fan got going & balls of fire came shooting through the room, I laughed. Laughed so hard my head became hot, thinking, I've made fire in the head. I felt then like a god who deals the people fire when what they're praying for is rain. And my laughter was that of a mad god in the night.