Intro

My grandfather was a… complex man.He slept beside an orderly nightstand.Tucking Mein Kampf tightIn its tidy drawer every night.

And…

He used to take me sailing.

{Silence}

Is listening more your thing? Hit the headphone icon 🎧 on the player at top. Or pick your app: Apple, Spotify, Overcast, YouTube.

Content Note: This piece addresses troubling family history and inherited complexity.

I call this one…

Slouching Toward Montauk

... Let’s say… I’m in my 70s now. Happiest time of my autistic life.

Not too worried about some fabulous unachievable autistic Nirvana… These days…

Now, here’s that story.

My grandfather was a… complex man.He slept beside an orderly nightstand.Tucking Mein Kampf tightIn its tidy drawer every night.

And…

He used to take me sailing out to Montauk Point… a sea journey from Bay Shore, Long Island… at least as he sailed it on the ocean side… swinging out into the deep water…

In his telling, it was a fabulous place.Where a sandstone lighthouse lit the waves, warning of danger.Where the grass on the golf course grew sideways.And every single damn tree bowed toward the West…From the eternal wind blowing onshore.His heaven on earth, he called it…...

The wind carries all the sound away…But its roar in my earscreates a kind of hushed silenceinside me..I always experience high anxietyas we lose sight of the shore.Just sky, waves & constant rolling…Disoriented.Like a whiteout in a blizzard.If you throw in some seasickness.But after an hour or so, I make my way to the prow. And sit.

Wind on my faceSun on my bodySalt breeze filling my chest…Quieting my heart.

Anxiety? Disorientation?

I observeThe fixed lighthouseIn the far off dusk.Splashing its light… bravelyInto the spray.Knowing deepIn its softNative sandstone heart…Time and tide wait for it....I stop caring about the shoreline. And the anxious Hell waiting for me on the other side. For hours at a time.....Who cares about sailing toward Montaukand its fabulous trees…anymore…Or... ever again?I’m busy breathing in…

this

fabulous moment

here

More autistic spoken word: If this resonated for you, I share more pieces like this on AutisticAF Out Loud.

Connect:

* Drop a comment… How complex was your family history for you as a neurodivergent?

* What refuges did you find?

* Hit the “follow” bell for new releases

Get the Chapbook:

every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, art, poetry, and raw neurodivergent truth. Thirteen pieces. One autistic life, unfiltered. Available on Amazon

Subscribe to AutisticAF Out Loud… free or paid… and get the full PDF in your inbox. On me. #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter: One Voice. Raw. Real. Fiercely Autistic.

Subscribe free to receive new autistic spoken‑word & essays… and instantly get my “thank you” gift: a free PDF of my poetry & art chapbook, every clock is a handgun pointed at my head

Thanks for reading #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter! The algorithm hates me. I must be doing something right… so feel free to share it.

I’m an autistic poet and spoken word performer, diagnosed at 63. Now in my 70s. I’ve been publishing AutisticAF Out Loud since 2019… work that refuses to be packaged.

My spoken word piece , every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, was published in Wordgathering, a journal of disability poetry & literature. In 2022, I spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day about my illustration work rooted in autism & ADHD.

I live in a rural Indiana trailer… across the courtyard from my wife’s trailer… with my 2 dogs & cat. Occasionally I shave… to face Walmart.

The algorithms hate me. I must be doing something right.

#SpokenWord #AutismAcceptance #AutisticPoetry #Mindfulness

#AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts free, click the link below. To support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Support AutisticAF.me with a one-time tip here: · Paypal · Ko-Fi · Facebook Pay “Johnny Knapp Âû”

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe