I had said very hot and very
blue before. I got in my car and I drove. I headed for the part of town I
usually never go to. I had described days of varying blueness and hotness. But
in no way, in my cogitations of "day" could I have conceived of
hours, sky, blueness, and all else that I had been leaving out.
I sat on a bench for many
hours. It was early in the afternoon. I attempted to draw, holding the paper so
that should a passer by happen upon me, they'd see my work, recognize my genius
and engage me in a conversation. How are you? I THINK I AM STILL DOING OKAY? I
thought about the feeling of a person, the long lost person. I drew this
picture and underneath it I wrote, Dear Sister Dina, if I have succeeded in
painting a picture, it is only partial, because I cannot rightly claim to be
using pigment.
I was saying without
actually knowing what it was like to speak. In my bathroom I usually stand up
my tippy toes and pretend to be taller, when I look in the mirror I suck in my
gut, my cheeks. The neighbors are beset with rodents. When I see them I ask,
how is the infestation? They nod. It is fine.
The neighbor woman sleeps in
the vestibule. Her face is covered in mud. If I prod her with my toe she will
not move. The advice I would give is not life changing. The thing I always
write each morning is I NEED TO CHANGE MY LIFE. When I was a boy I asked a
vendor for a bottle of water. I had no money but I pressed on him my thirst. Shocked
that he demanded money still, I left thirsty. Over my shoulder I asked him, Do
You Know I Am Leaving Thirsty?
Speaking was nothing like
those words about to be written down, zipping through my head. The articles
came loose. Yet it was the only way it could be attempted. Like very hot, like
very blue.
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