when i turned my face the answer was
a wide-jowled moon low in the trees
ignorance
like youth is so refreshing
Spring hath not these qualities
Spring offensive, spring
baldly rolling while broken
origins in question
Spring a mere rewarming
new life, that furry coating?
dread of Spring's attention
and it makes me feel things
that's how specific the rain is
in fact rain is general in the neighborhood
i'm not trying to rhyme but the best word is really
pain, as in when there's an additional pain
along with the rain, you can blame it... oh shit.
for example at the moment
the rain has calmed and my emotions with it
but what remains is a physical symptom of
ill an ache no worse for me
than acne. Even tho it kills.
Kills not as in good and it not as in
primary cause. But how can death
be so complicated.
It can't "be" anything from a first-person
point of view. Not in this clean town.
We are provided imaginative templates.
It's rarely good news in the first person,
i'm guessing from observation.
Apart from being better than pain.
ya they say never hand over a knife to the patient
do they say that and no i don't believe that happened
it happened and it's my fault because i thought we were both lucid
it's a personal place a central place
i know this there is symbolic content i feel all that i knew as soon as
as soon as
as soon as i saw you slash so deeply and so far i realized
you realized i slashed
i realized that it would be a symbolic moment and an existential question
not whether or not i'd survive but
right not that but whether or not you could deal with having destroyed
that specialized area
that no one would ever again see the tissue that had connected you to your mother
but now you act like
i'm not acting i'm telling you if i did it you did it it doesn't matter it's still there inside
because it turned out ok right how you mean because it looks like a real navel
no because you are no longer exposed to that reminder of dependency
you could do the same to my mouth so no one could see the hole i have to eat through
already too many of you were caught in an updraft spiraling toward the stadium lights
i'd try and grab your sideburns and let go of her pigtails by doing so
they shouldn't allow friends and family over by the air-conditioning unit for the temporary buildings
not when lightning bolts can crease a sky and stars with no clouds
when the filter is down but not the beacon and the flekes at their hill fires start drumming
a thrill, fear, ice rises from the heart area and perhaps it's a meteor but also a gesture
then it seemed as though we were lost but it was only from each other
we looked at the faces around us and there was newness on both sides as well as being losers
"why?" or "the hell?"
but feel i need a gentler tool, so not
which bad choice, which horrific and all-powerful system
for example, must one coax oneself.
or should personal hygiene just occur naturally.
these are questions i can touch with my beak right now.
like an anteater i can
daintily taste test a single wriggling assertion
or fully tongue the entire org tree including
subterranean levels
those are the ones that house the rankest
tank thinkers mercenary blowhards social
wrecking balls inciters of chaos paralegal
vengeance servers of cause and means
sinister laundries of earnest curiosity
but just one taste is all i ask and i'm tasting
real. sky bitch. musk.
they want to come up here and take that
and not because i'm dirty baby
they use my funk for their discotecas.
think i'm dying for cucumber essence.
claim their fashions suit me best.
the answer and the proof are in my nest.
Ks fly spread eagle!
Jan: Watching you and the other full-bloods i can't help but notice moments when you emerge from your face. Normally your countenance to my nose is mask-like. But maybe i'll mention my husband or the restaurants on the other side of The Crack or ask a stupid question about the Greater Chanks Phenomena, and the mask becomes animated. I respond especially to the muscles around your eyes, which normally don't move at all unless theyr being prodded unexpectedly by a tree in a cloud or an airliner.
Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Jan: Yes, i see you now!
Peg: Oh honey.
Jan: But i mean i say that because this observation also reminds me of how different i am despite my putative species how my face compared to yours is overly expressive clown-like hypo-manic.
Peg: ...
Jan: I mean how does that affect the outcomes of everyday encounters how does it
Peg: Yr trying not to do it now aren't you. So i'm not sure i can provide any feedback yet. I'll have to catch you at a less self-conscious moment.
Jan: Oh good luck with that.
Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Trans. Phyliss
My trajectory was corrupted
the fabric collapsed
over the top half
of my basket.
No I won't rhyme
basket with casket.
I'm tryna git
the common mirror to write this shit
so i can retire.
by Donna
Was it societal rape being done to him all those years?
How so.
How society basically forced him to engage in sexual intercourse that he did not want. Is that worse than having to be celibate or choosing like Ilyn for spiritual purposes.
Or prostitution. It wasn't against his will.
No, more like with a gun to his head. You choose the lesser evil.
The gun of a specter of persecution poverty shame ostracization.
Yep. No one in recorded history has survived a shunning except a few that became their own scarlet letter.
What?
They survived but they were marked and stunted by their resulting public identity. He'd be at shiv and a Jan would say ya I'm a servant to Mthyuh or another Jan would say ya I'm a zoological hygienist.
Then it would get to his turn and they'd interrupt with ya we know who you are.
Right. He embraced being that guy.
Can you please shove that backhoe out about 20 yards? I need to stretch. Just with your foot there. Thanks.
Flekes Jans priests nobody can get their Braino on it. We have the evidence all around us of this practice belief prejudice crime having been going on for like forever now.
All we have is now Jan.
So right you are darling.
Trans. by Phyliss Ng-Tiu (embedded)
Donna effed up and slashed it open
then closed with fancy stitching
to fashion me a new one
If you're going to have a surgery
on your patio or balcony
you'd better have in mind the men
who like aesthetics now and then
men who keep an inventory
of body parts and piercings for the
off chance of another emergency
or when she's doing residency
Jan and Peg are stretched out on their bellies in the sand. Waves splash up against their bodies. Their elbows and wrists fit on the strand of beach between the water and a desolate highway. Their tails bob and flick at seagulls far out into the bay.
PEG: Next we turn to the stars for answers.
JAN: What do you see there?
PEG: What i see is filtered through the seers accounting of what supposedly they see.
JAN: You've looked at the oracle dispenser. It disappoints you.
PEG: It certainly tries to do the opposite, which makes me all the more concerned. So, so encouraging uplifting today that i was sure she knew something and wasn't saying.
JAN: Oh like ya buy that new pair of shoes treat yourself watch that movie eat a bonbon and what am i going to do with a shoe?
PEG: Mmhmm.
JAN: I am starting to believe that because we are closer to the heavens we are affected more profoundly by other large bodies moving in space.
PEG: So buy two pairs of shoes?
JAN: No. Just don't depend on the oracle dispenser for guidance that should be ours directly from the stars themselves.
PEG: Do you mean
JAN: Ya we should have and make our own charts and by doing so reclaim our ancient agency to roam in self-governed patterns.
PEG: Dictated by our biology not theirs. Lucky way more often.
JAN: I think i can feel a planet gently tugging on my gizzard now in the magnetic resonance of the stones.
PEG: Jan i told you purge and start over. Gargle with
JAN: Sea water ya. I use this instead.
Jan reaches out and snags a passing milk tanker from the desolate highway and bites off the end of it before passing it to Peg.
PEG: Oh. Ayurvedic to my nose.
BOTH: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Trans. by Phyllis (embedded)
You attribute these statements at least in part to external agency.
Well you know as well as I do that's complicated. Some segments of society would suggest that unwelcome statements, other vocal utterances, and any bodily movement can be achieved through Remote Tissue Decisioning. Because they burned the libraries, there's no proof such a program ever existed or whether it's still part of the MPS mission statement.
What would you call it then, leaving aside oral tradition. It, these utterances?
Scientifically I'd guess a scientist would go with echolalia in some cases and coprolalia in others: both are semi-involuntary, vocalized auto-sympathetic bursts of the amygdalae.
Scientifically. They never reach the line of what a reasonable person might call menacing or harassing.
You're HR now as well? We're talking about medical symptoms here.
Not political, theatrical...
Certainly you can say provocative if it's on the side of the fence you want.
Caustic?
Oh, I certainly hope so. Else the only positive trait of my neurological condition would be lost.
You're a hard case.
At last, a flash of random honesty at the Institute for the Journal of Meta-Cognitive Talk Therapy Apologists.
We just call it the Institute now.
Denier of All Realities denies all reality irreality all alternate all make-believe and fantasy realities simulated phenomenological surreality quantum anti-reality modal emergent de res de dicto obliteration of all karmic matter diminished quasi meta and transcendental realities, and realty.
B. Moksha
from you i'm not taking this
i had your back and advanced
your line and on that my ass
but you give no sign don't speak
up for or to me where's that
sass that/ as a matter of fact
you egged me on even swooped
alongside on a night mish
poolside for the whole dish
i granted your almost every wish
maybe holding back that dymin
put me in the sitch they found me in
There was a very old queen name Brenda Friend an she would be out there asking pedestrians for a dollar.
I gave Miss Brenda a dollar an she toll me no, don't go that way. They's K's up in them trees I seenem.
I had been dancing my way home in the streets all the way up from a shivden in Dubbaberra. This was all mine and I could run even MPS know better than to check me.
I am slowing down in my stride and the sidewalk smelt sweet, a breeze, then some hooks are in my coat shoulders lifting me up. For a moment I could see from a level that I should not. Then he let me drop and swooped off like a clown with his crop all swole and bobbing the beak like a dolphin. The cismales think yor a plaything.
That's why I only walk or dance under low-hanging FOL wires when in the street. I should have listened to Brenda, but we can all learn.
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