Sunday, May 31, 2009

accidental bullets, sentimental reverends

This girl keeps walking around the room mentioning that we should have a séance while kate is collapsed on the couch and someone keeps lighting candles and as soon as they do I blow them out and that perfectly resembles the only thing that ever happens in this room, one person moves one thing somewhere and then someone else moves it back to where it was before again, so we never really get further than the doorway before we decided to turn around again. And whether or not I decided to sit on the kitchen floor or walk into the basement and stare into the dark does not alter the fact that, there is one person on a loveseat, sucking the air out of a sketchbook, and there is a third voice that I respond to the next morning in the shower, as I say, "I don't know who you want me to be, but as far as I can tell, your asking me to be someone besides myself, and I'm not going to be him, just so your comfortable" and then a moment later she is on top of kate on the carpet straddling her back and smiling as she crushes the spine of the lady on the embroidered floor. Someone walks in and stands next to the table with things clinking off her clothes saying that the debate she saw on the television (neon glow) was only half-worth the price of her evening, not nearly her soul ($296 dollars at least) and that it made her less aware, stupider, presidents are just a consequence for our inability to adapt, she said, a species that has already out grown it's head, she said. Meanwhile a man who only has two expressions on the side of his face walks around the dragging sound of the record player saying this song is so heavy, this song is so heavy man, and he plays the drums he says that he knows how to play the drums and I nod my head and say hello.


1 comment:

Zachary Bushnell. said...

a sweeping portrait of the goings-on within a room. the speaker seems to sail alone about the group, cataloging with almost visceral rapidity the events which occur. i like this a lot.