Early Memory of Hearing Colours, Holding a Cockroach By Angela Parker I was warned about madness as an infant, had it from the mouths of demons themselves: green tongues flicked up the bars that caged me, unnatural, like neon fire. I recognized the strange power before I could speak; I understood their language. My world spun black and white clowns above me; tiny, misshapen mirrors spread the green glimmers, all the jack-in-the-box energy about to pop at any moment. Climb from your crib, into a different world -- get out, we'll help, we know the way.