Posts Tagged ‘eyeballs’

Thanks To Latvian Pepsi, I Am A New Person.

January 4, 2010

– it’s like all my organs are floating on a lake, sending signals to each other with flags and lights.  they’re asking for help.

– i don’t understand.

– have you ever seen a belly dancer?  not a stripper, a belly dancer.

– at the Moroccan place in Highsdale.

– okay, think about her – a woman, right? – think about her arms looking like snakes.  her arms look like snakes.

– her arms look like fishtails.

– her arms look like fishtails.  she rolls her muscles, firm and flowing then flicking out her fingertips, whipping energy into the air.  it hangs suspended, still, before the next undulation – it’s like that happening every second in my mind.

– is it arousing?

– kind of – no, I mean, yes.  yes it is.  it pulls me in and sighs down my neck.

– yes?

– i see a tree stump in a clearing and after dark i go there and sit.  if a man enters the clearing i want to take as my husband, we marry that night with our bodies.  we perform a ceremony later to acknowledge what’s been enacted between us by God and the forest.

– that’s a lovely thing.

– thoughts are lovely things.

– we should make more of them, all the time.

– i agree, but it’s risky.  they’re like children, a beautiful five-year-old daughter you dress up in tutus and film home videos of with your spouse, laughing involuntarily because you are young and happy.  you love her more than anything or anyone in the world.  then one day someone kidnaps her and you call the police and your relatives bring casseroles over while K-9 units scour for her smell in stripper pits.  they find her half-decomposed in a garbage bag under the bridge.  when you go to identify her there are fluorescent lights, serrated knives made of photons slicing and reflecting off her remaining eyeball, a glassy spider egg about to hatch next to a bare skull, face eaten clean away by worms and mice.  you can’t be the same at all, after that.  you’re barely human and don’t have a say, it’s just the “hello i am a person” nametag balled up and tossed on the fire.

– but couldn’t that make you more a person too?  the weight of loss.  the most human-like people I’ve met are the ones carrying boulders in their stomachs.  mountains, even.

– true.  we are made of dirt.

– and air.

– and water.  lots of it.

– someone once told me that thoughts are like water and if you can’t dance around the flow, get the hell outta dodge.

– they sound wise.

– i like that you are here.

– i like that I am here and you are here too at the same time.

– “together” is a good word.

– yes.

– genesis has something goin’ with that “and God saw that it was good.”  i don’t buy any of that young earth shit.  i don’t think that’s what whoever wrote it was gettin’ at,  but the “it was good” – that is something.  that things like water and light and birds and trees are there is good, that’s – that’s lovely or elegant or something, i don’t know

– i understand.  i do

– you are, and that is good.

– that came before anything else.

– yes. don’t let us forget that.

– let’s remember as many good things as possible.

– okay.

– (..)

– (….)

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Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck: Scarecrow Collateral, One Two Three

January 3, 2010

it’s like running too fast and being too tall at the same time then seeing yourself  collide with telephone wires and cut off your own head except it’s not your own head it’s somebody else’s head and you’re screaming because they’re bleeding and they look surprised not because they’re actually surprised but they were surprised ten seconds ago when their head was still attached to their neck and you’re screaming oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck and crying more than you have since first grade at your great-grandmother’s funeral because it was scary not black bat and witches scary but pink wallpaper and boring organ music scary, the scary that tries to hide itself behind nice things and becomes scarier by veiling its-

-elf in flowers and velvet oh god please stop you are terrifying me with your quiet Central Park stroll toward death maggots roasting your eyeballs for kabobs, my cynicism and sincerity have been switching nametags to fuzz clarity for laughs well HA HA HA here they come spitting “we ain’t got time for mental glitches bitches let’s get down to business” then forget Fibonacci leaves & leave out obvious non habeas corpus in accidental oversight of Origens and remove hats in shame to countless straw women losing husbands to canons fired in the wrong dir-

-ection if I’m slightly insane and don’t believe it when you schedule all my friends to sit stiff on the living room couch for intervention in nice outfits to break it to me gently I present you proudly with the perfect evidence to use against me.