June 13, 2016 § Leave a comment

Very late in the evening I began to think I am always afraid. But the kittens were asleep. One on the rung of a ladder, leaning. Three, as in a set. In the morning someone began to speak. He said reality, it’s harsh. He said but did not say reality is something that intrudes, not something that is. Reality is distinguishable from real, he might be saying. Real as in the roses on my grandmother’s grave. Reality as in her dying at the wrong time. Their voices were increasing in volume. Cat voices. You’re not supposed to feed them. Smile, it’s okay. Smile, I bet you have a real pretty smile. Fuck off.

You’re disgusting.

This can’t matter right now. But it’s not going to stop itself. A place or face you don’t recognize when awake. The tiny building, only a ladder, a bicycle, a wheelbarrow, and three kittens, is a living being. Some voice said, mother? I do not recall.

This isn’t the time or keep running. They are saying time is imaginary. In my room I tell myself a story. But the story seeks control there, to contain itself where my body is imposing on the real. My body lives in reality, where it dies.

It is not a creature that will crawl into arms. Arms as in reality. Pick up the kitten by the neck and it splays its arms in the air. When it rains they do not like that. The ocean is imaginary. Or sailing on it away from time is real.

A young whatever dreaming immobile in the sunrays raises its arms over its head and disappears. When I remember words they are clotted into a mask that shields the face from itself. Look in the mirror and see. Again I’m inventing a memory. To encrypt.

You never know what you’re saying, do you? No, because this language is void.


No. The body did not disappear. No such thing could ever happen here. It was destroyed, and it stays. It’s making space for him.

Something lost, he says. Refind or refund. Language of transactions. They’re not lost. The kittens were born here.

What are you saying? Fuck if I know. Don’t fuck if I don’t know. I’ve always been unreasonably stupid.

Fuck you if I know. I know.

I stand on the street I’ve seen. Outside. There’s a rose and no garden. I steal it, it’s mine, where did it come from. Like that. I do not mind where the rain hits me because it is not going to go away.





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