Friday, April 24, 2009

Untitled Prose Piece 3

There is no one, to knowingly unknow, or put your palm on the table, fingers pawing at the sky, lessons in fortune-telling. Or something brutal, wind changing direction, weathervanes creaking under confusion. How do you do sincerity. Keep it all or disperse it. As if your lips moved when you spoke. Ask me a pointed question. Accuse me. A spoken word is not a thing in the world. Heavy & barbarous. Snakes in boiling water. Say the word ‘serpentine’ because it suits you. I came home from work to find you sleeping on the telephone. Arithmancy is not the study of numbers or anything. Answer the telephone. Tell me something good & kind & I promise to get a pen & not upset. Feign interest in my own feelings.

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