| by Dante Micheaux [for Ishion Hutchinson] The thing about entertaining them, about keeping their company, about fraternizing, is you must remember they are bloodless and have many faces, though it’s easy enough to walk in sunlight, where either you or they become invisible, never together seen; easy to get in bed with them, to bed them, to be seduced by them— listing in their own dominance. Remember what makes one human, animal, is not the high road but the baseness in the heart, the knowledge that they could, at any moment, betray you. |
| To be the thing | ||
| by Dorothea Lasky | ||
To be the name uttered, but not to have the burden to be To be the name said, but not heard To not breathe anymore, to be the thing To be the thing being breathed To not be about to die, to be already dead To not have to disappoint To not have the burden of being late Or punctual To not eat, to not have to eat To not feel anything To not be the one's whose affect is criticized To not pick up the fallen over boxes To be everywhere but the boxes or plates To not break the plates To be beyond breaking To have been broken To not bear the burden of not being present To not have to feel the pain of being hurt To have transferred that pain over So that hurt is only part of the imagination And the imagination is everywhere, is every color To not contain color, to be color To not make sound, to be sound To not have language, to echo, to plan language To be the stream of words To not be sad for To not have those be sad for To not eat alone To not fuck those who do not find your corpse attractive To not fuck Or stuff To be ashes and non-placed Not displaced, but to not be in any place To enter the ocean on not a whim, but a physical force Where there is no center Where there is no safety There never was There was never any anger There was never anything to look at I never looked at anything I just went and walked I tried to love But love is hopeless And I have lost all hope, so bleak I am beyond I am beyond what might be considered low There is low nor high, space or time, I have Gone away from that which is uttered I have not burdened to be spoken of or spoken for To croak everyday to the livelong bog I do not speak a thing I exist No, no I don't I never did And you may have But I never did And you may have called out for me But I was already gone And I am already there That which you speak of I am already spoken for In a world of light and ashes They all call my name They have waited for me And now I know I was always Already there With them | ||
