3.23.01 - 12:45:25

are you going to kill me, then, she asked. will you stop loving me (have you stopped loving me)(...) shall we have tea, then. joseph is allergic to crumpets. how queer. no, not really. he's allergic to anything containing gluten. i see...like crumpets. yes, or egg mcmuffins. of course. of course.

could your lips stretch in the right manner? could your tongue push the air in the right direction. could your mouth open and close at exactly the right time? or are you doomed, forever doomed, to this dark world without the hard k, to getting your gas at esso instead of exxon because they know better, they have changed for you, they won't make you say it or try to say it because they know. but do they?

and what then, after the torchlight red on sweaty faces? what then? can i misquote you to make you my own?

he didn't do anything new, he said, why look at this. who are we looking at? oh. we are looking at robert browning (i believe). do you remember the tempest and prospero and miranda and, of course, caliban? he took him out of shakespeare and built a new world for him. with slimy efts, this i remember. and can you really say, are you really saying that he didn't do anything new with april, the cruelest month, with lilacs breeding out of the dead ground, with the hyacinth girl and madame sosotris and lil and that shakespeherian rag, yes, i spelled it right, go check, tiresias and the violet light and the watching and the voices singing out of empty wells and cisterns? phlebas the phoenecian, who was once as fair as you? phlebas with pearls for eyes? but look, we have always had death by water, it isn't new. look at caliban. he laid in mud and played god. we have always had thunder. but have you always known what it said? there have always been rocks and water and shadows and thirst and solitude (fear). red rocks, even. and the sound of water. he didn't do anything new, i will show you fear in a handful of dust, but i will not show you anything new.

you can't understand. he was new. it was new. it wasn't caliban's world. it wasn't browning with his dramatic monologues and duchesses. you won't understand.

shantih. shantih. shantih.

can i misquote you to make you my own?

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