Thursday, November 21, 2024

O Arthur O Arthur let down your hair O Jenny O Jenny play me a tune

Sitting back in this cavern I am the puniest acrobatic monkey in the troupe. I’m the wheezing whistling old accordion resting in the chair,,, pull me pull me! dear god do something!

I feel neither genuine nor vulgar, the rounded paper lantern diffusing the sparkly lightbulb.

I am only golden in the scrolls of the prince in the high tower

O arthur o Arthur let down your hair

I am only shining when perched on your flute

O Jenny o Jenny play me a tune

When I read aloud my story in April, most of them are on their laptops, looking at a vat of emails or playing sodoku or doing something important. I think about jellyfish in the waves, jellyfish caught dead and stranded on a shoreline, boys with buckteeth, fish with long hair and wings. When I read aloud my story in November I am crouched in some dripping corner of my brain, prodding at my budding wisdom teeth with my tongue. Taste of metal I bite the spoon the knife the fork the hand the denim fold of my pants at the kneecap. 

I think about punching someone in the face and how the phrase "punchable face" is violently insulting and how I wish I had an arm like Babe Ruth. I could punch you in the face and twist your ears back and forth! I want to make you a stew big and bubbling! Give you a strand of my hair and say "here, is this what you wished for?" Want to make something so beautiful and booming that it is undeniably so, undeniably beautiful and booming.

I turn east and let it flood my sockets

Green basins or marbles

I am rendered a (collapsible giraffe)



Everyone is listening to the trains version of ‘lovers rock’

The screeching pressure of it meeting the bay in the deep aquatic tunnel

Looking at pictures of people unfolding, hearing stories over and over, I feel like a bulldozer, or a construction crane, or the wing of a heron. I'd like to set this stuff in pudding or jello. Lemon lime, cherry, strawberry delight.       




1 comment:

  1. Your writing always feels like a kaleidoscope of images, full of unexpected turns that catch me off guard in the best way. I can feel the yearning and the playfulness everywhere, up and down and side to side—like you’re balancing between being light and heavy, silly and profound, all at once. The way you bring everything to life, from the accordion to jellyfish, makes it feel like a tiny bean sprout being born.

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