what are you actually saying

“I can sit by you,” I say.

“That’s it?”

“No. I suppose I could do any number of things as well as any number of other things for you, right now.”

“So?!”

“I don’t know. This seems best.”

“Really?!”

“Perhaps.”

“Disappointing.”

“You called me.”

“You are three days too late.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

“Then what are you actually saying?”

“I’m just doing my best, too.”

Silenc3 Refomul8ted

The govenor of the state of New York was recently asked to relay declarative sentences regarding the data analysis his scientific experts yielded unto him.

He laughs.

“You think I don’t give you a straight answer, you should talk to these statisticians. They never give you a direct statement.”

I laugh.

I message the statistician I know all too well.

Telling him the statements.

He responds, “There is a possibility he’s right.”

~

Today, I reread myself from twelve days ago.

She stands and windmills her arms in circles sixty times.

She bends her neck and it cracks.

“There it is,” she says, thinking, ‘Fuck. Taco Bell would be good.’

I guess I was exercising/exorcising.

<giggle, blush>

~

Today, I reach out to aforementioned statistician, writing,

~I have a shuffled deck of seventy eight cards, I draw one at random. I replace it into the deck and reshuffle. I draw a card at random. What is the likelihood that I draw the same card?

⊙One in seventy-eight. The probability is completely dependent on the second card matching the first.

~What is the likelihood that I drew a different card each time?

⊙P(no match) = 1 – P(match). 77/78.

So, she scribbled out the math in crude ways. Slowly, by hand. As she had as a child.

<never turning in a math test before the buzzer sounded>

Well, fuck the ten of swords, she giggles.

~

I reread myself from April 26

Some facts are hard; some truths are soft.

Make your own Kierkegaardian leap. I didn’t bring a parachute for me, let alone you. But, would it be okay if I fell next to you?

Phædo

Swan Song

Pædrus

And, No-One wilt sculpt you a wrinkled, time weathered, mountain from a molehill better than Æ.

And the reason, P.

~

Yesterday I asked my sister for her good Word and wrote the following:

The –thorpe was octo-. Eight little houses in the hamlet.

A cluster.

A community built from playing with a bit of hash- -tag

you’re it.

The difference between mitigation and litigation.

~

Right, exactly, now, the sun insists through snapped shut blinds.

Where the chord connects on the à gauche, median, and dexter sides through little loops knotted about each slat

~

I see my handwriting spell it out for me:

The heyoka becomes a narcissist’s tulpa.

Subterranean seattle alien nonsense blues

Looking like an ever-loving swine in sunglasses. Peacocking. Tail feathers all a’fan. Such a pretty fellow, just ask him.

I over hear a man dropping something in the parking lot. Cursing loudly.

Ten minutes later, he yells out at a neighbor’s squawking parrot, “shut up, you fucking freak.” Pandemic conditions do not become him.

~

“I’m just saying,” she not only, but also, says, “I’ve watched a criminal amount of cute animal videos this week. Like, if I was on the stand and used it as an alibi, it would go like this:

“Like, see your honor, my tablet history clearly shows I was four hours into binging six hours of watching cute cat videos when this crime was perpetrated.”

“Let the record reflect the witness is not guilty of this crime, but will be charged with something because of the egregious waste of time and countless brain cells. While I cannot formally find her in contempt, let the record show, this court sure holds her in contempt.”

“Like, I would not get a new job if these records of time spent watching were included in background checks.”

~

I hear the old man in the overhead apartment, creaking support beams in his pacing above me, while aggressively complaining at his phone. “Who wants to play a game,” I think. “What’s the creepiest pet name you can imagine?”

There is a cat named Mister Daddy. I know because I was in the house when it was naughty as I heard its owner crying, “No, Mister Daddy! No. That’s a bad Mister Daddy.” And, you know what? Mister Daddy, being a cat and all, just looked at this sweet girl like, “Ahh. I don’t care. Get outta my face.”

“Sounds like a real soul-shattering experience.”

“I lost sleep for a week.”

solicitude to solitude (ii)

Introductions suspended while we undergo this live exercise.

New and emerging.

Novel and multicrowned.

Coranated by all together, through multiple tiaras given by the calling of too many names.

Cut like fingernails into quick. Sandpaper rubbing and Indian burns.

Salves of salvation and balms as alms for the bottom.

People now pay per view the fights they saw for free in middle school halls.

These expansive Plains of Repetition.

Iron Lightning could take a walk and return with horses.

I come back with a bit of skin darkened by the lightness of sunshine.

Full circle.

“Then, where are you?”

“In your nightmares.”

“While I dream in heaven.”

“Thank your gods for your Haven, fool.”

“How dare you tell me what to do. How dare you presume to know of my gods.”

“Oh. Are they so extra sacred and unique?”

“No. But they are mine.”

“Possessive one.”

solicitude to solitude (i)

And, though things were terrifically strange, she felt oddly disinclined to speak.

But, she realized that she might be interested in her thoughts on now, a few months from now.

And, she enjoys tapping out characters as much as an enthusiastic pianist paws out notes from hammer and strings.

And, all the talkers were just saying the same things.

Then, she felt narcissistic for thinking about enjoying remembering her previous thoughts.

So, she shakes her head and scribbles.

So, twist and howl. Nothing else to do.

And, she feels boorishly derivative yet, impeccably derived.

So, she began each preceding sentence with inanities such as

And; but; then; so

So(?)

And, she feels restless and pent up despite already being a bit of a metaphysically hermetic, solitary creature.

But, the public solicitude to solitude made her space feel imposed not chosen.

And, while the difference was arguæbly negligible, she found it curious how much the distinction perturbs her.

“Insert sentence g here?” Æ, speaking to myself, prompts.

“Okay, here goes,” I reply to Æ.

Night witch

There is the window.

There is the empty tub.

Here is the towel rack; and,

on that hook is a robe hung.

Hanged.

The robbery of the spirit was abetted by the victim.

No one to blame, so

don’t take it personally.

Take a person-ally, one who will sing the body electric; and,

hold them dear even when they diss-appear

like leaves of grass

under winter’s precipitation.

Like snow, so heavy, ceaselessly falls,

a voice sings, “I will bury you all.”

Wolf People.

water fell

The light stayed dusky; water gently splattered from the sky.

Tears of tedium; the guts of Humpty Dumpty, raining from the wall of the Earth’s atmospheric dome.

After she caught him sleeping, Alice felt his big fall shake the forest.

Portentous of the lion and the unicorn.

She grabs a pewter ewer filled with water.

ChAlice of ecstasy with which she seeds grails, making them holy.

She wonders if someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah.

The black kitten or perhaps the white one, or maybe that other sweet thing.

~

Alice shakes her head for no reason except to shake out the sing~song thought “someone’s in the kitchen, I know.”

The diners share a conversation.

“What are your thoughts on this?” he asks, turning to her.

She pours water into his glass, saying, “I think I do not have an opinion regarding the matter.”

“I adore fresh slates,” he says, pupils dilating in anticipation of diatribing.

“Sshhh. I adore not having to opine on inanities,” she replies.

“Strumming on the old banjo,” she thinks.

~

“What do you call yourself?” he asks.

“Your snake-charmer, making venom drip,” she says.

“Fee, fie, fiddly, ay oh,” she thinks.

“Speaking of which, I had to disassemble two outlets to deal with a leak,” he responds to her omitted question.

“When you discovered the outlet wiring goes through the sink of your stomach?”

“Huh.”

“Hum. Automatic articultion of your abstract mindscape needs practice. ”

~

Vouchsafed.

~

“The sky is so blue.”

“Azure?”

“I don’t know.”

“We shall look up the Word.

an egad of e’s.

Entropy can not be excised from energy.

Now, we feel the onus on us.

Let them wear those ascots and eat their escargot;

and, I shall send this erogenous epistle that is delivered whilst tip toeing through brambles of sharp thistles.

An endemic epidemic extolling the benefits of the sentence of exile.

“What would the congregation think if they could see you now?” she asks.

“I would care not,” he replies.

Epistemic and affixed.

A’human energy existant and

avoidant.

Avoid, ant.

A void, ant.

Automatic Diatribe (II)

Here.

Heel.

We are running in circles.

Cyclical spires of turrets leading to screaming minarets.

All is as it has been before.

And, I hear your silent complaint that I never wear my hair naturally curly anymore.

Give me a reason.

Who summoned whom from the pneumatic ether and how many times?

Who and Whom are a real, diabolical pair.

Alain de Botton hissing out a status of anxiety.

Dialogueing with the ecological shaman of

David Abram casting natural spells of the sensuous.

Put your faith in me.

I will make you watch me return it and put it back into yourself while I ask you to consider the chartreuse evening.

Prowling the catacombs of the catatonic.

Buffering neophytic initiants while irritants and retinal scratches

itch;

because sometimes I say silly things when I’m embarrassed.

Hand sigils and face touching.

The difference between indoctrinated and initiated? I call to Æ like a game show host.

The difference between you getting it and blowing it versus you getting it and not blowing it: he grins, blowing it for both of us.

And what if what I call discipline is just self-indulgence?

You bitch.

Don’t fret. I love you madly, too.

It is true. I don’t know you, yet Æ thinks I do.

You’re interesting: he says.

I reply: you listen or hear better than most.

Ammend-able.

Amen-able.

Ami-able.

Ambivalent.

What’s the difference between the interval and the rest.

Your silence.

Duress and stress?

They were meant to know of how I see your eyes, dear.

Depleted and explicative.