Wednesday. Have you ever wanted to throw your roommate off a cliff? Enlighten me, I do not know what it feels like. The messenger gives you the message before announcing who it's to. Then goes on his merry way. Sick. Vase holding the flowers. Every last one I've ever plucked. Mosquito. No, no. Let's go to Spain and Italy and Greece. I've never been but I hear it's pretty cool. Let's look into a spaceship. Bent on landing on the moon. Stop there. Limit yourself. You're only a hairless popsicle. That's all you are. The fat man. Well, he's not that fat, but he's no Baywatch actor either. He comes out from his room without a shirt. He was just sleeping. He drinks the water from his hose that's found in the hallway. My feet are getting wet. Water gets everywhere. He says nothing to me. I say nothing to him. That's all. Maybe he's a veteran maybe he's a great artist. Maybe everything he's ever done was vulgar, indecent and mediocre. Picture frames, empty. The dancers leapt away from their canvas. I did not see them leap. That's the conclusion I jumped to. Dancers always leap you see. If they cease to leap about with legs arms and torso placed just so, just right, beautifully, they cease to be dancers. They were NEVER dancers. Because we are all confined to your own past. It never is forgotten. It's haunting. No. When I start in with the mundane activities. The walking, the pulp readings, the endless entertainment. And the commercials. I forget who I am then too. I go for the gold. But I forget about the flowers, bright red and orange beauties. Covering fields. Upside down blue. My lover flies and skips about in this perfect landscape. Defiling it. The frogs and crickets are crushed beneath her feet. Her long hair gets tangled with some bushes. She let's out a cry. I do nothing. As I try to begin to speak the spiders and lizards sew my lips shut. The needles going through my lips, scraping my teeth, stabbing my gums. It's painful, so painful
The shirtless man returns. Snuck up behind me as I watch my lover being pulled down by her own hair. By her own guilt. He has shears. Half my hair is cut. Then he proceeds to cut the wire that keeps my lips together. I am free to speak. But still I say nothing. He has aged since I saw him last. "Do you have nay questions for me" he asks. I sit in the chair the chair joins in line with the others. All exactly the same. I always want you to come over. The ceiling moves. It's covered in mist. The mist beguiles me. And I fail to see the keys. Those keys I need. The catalyst and the scapegoat. I need. I desire. I long for. No more. I am content.
... 5 mountains surround my valley. I watered every flower and I burned every weed. I burned the cabin down I covered my forehead and eyelids with the ash. It was an accident. I thrived in it. That frightening fire. Flames 20 feet high. If you looked up and if you used your imagination, the fire appeared to heat up the moon. It glowed with heat. And the shooting stars that ran into it burned too. I could not handle what I had done. So I ran away. I slept in the subway station. The rooster smoking a candy cane came up to me. I gave him bread. He gave me water. He sang praises to God for this happy feast and our new friendship. I ate his sister. He had lots of sisters. How humble was my situation. Barefoot and drunk. I stumbled about and feelings were lost. They took the form of rats. Red eyes scurrying about. Afraid of homosapiens. They found their way deeper into the caverns. Crystals purple and white, lined the path to the God of the Underground. He was sitting on a chair on a table on top of some bricks. Underneath the bricks stretched out the iron floor mat. Each step clanged and echoed throughout the hallways. The dark muddy corridors. Lit by fireflies. Battery powered insects. You could plug them into God's power plant and watch them burst from too much electricity.
The ladder takes you up to the outside. It's a very very very long ladder. I don't know this. I heard it from my lover. She heard it from her father who saw it in a dream. Before telling his wishes. He blindfolded her and made her stand on the high dive. All the teenage lifeguards were watching so she was totally safe. The pool was filled with salted water and blood. The corrupt governor walked by. Followed by the maid with the bucket of milk. She had milked the cow that morning. As every morning. The sun would rise. The beast with twelve legs darted through the woods. The cow didn't mind. But proceeded to graze.
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