Wednesday, June 10, 2015


All things immediately near: washing machine churn; weed whacker buzz; thud of dirty clothes thrown down the stairs; a worker's KSSK music; mosquito itch. An apology for mis-communication that is mis-communication. The moment teasing cedes to gut-punch. You're not my real mother. Nor is mine any more. When text re-becomes image, you're in the process of cropping a life. Grief's are not safety scissors. Our kittens kick a ping pong ball against the walls of the nook. One lies under the couch, while the other waits beside it. To compose grief is to add to it, after a feeling interval of sound. It's an orphan thing, my friend says. Kitten kicks to kitten; she kicks back through electrical cord tangle. An artist finds sound in the running of sap, guitars and zebra finches. Listen through the voice-over to the pinging of water in porcelain bowls.

--9 June 2015

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