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WHILE YOUR DOG IS ASSAULTEDWhen your dog is under assault –
Gradually the house of yore becomes visible in the eyepiece, we see the doorway slowly opening up by itself, and once again we can hear the faint voice of the broadcast from the trauma's epicentre –
"Suspicion roves about the room. Suddenly the banisters' end becomes a paw. Good God! Don't attract the porter's attention. Calm your breath. Go on scrutinizing the interior, just like nothing happened. The reponsibility assessment is not altogether crystal clear..."
And the animal remains absent. The town recedes into a state of afterday / alterway, timidity... We hear someone faintly coughing in the outskirts of the area stricken by catastrophe.
There's a spaceship leaving now for the suburbs.
And this is our theatre: the interior incomprehensible void of a huge tank where no echo can be heard. The not yet perfectly square mirror at the opposite end of it still keeps turning; we are watching, watching a star.
OBOEAn O is suspended in the dusk behind the eyelids. There is room for an entire city district. It is not like a mirror, nor like a kind of lens, the city does really exist. There is space enough for it. There we see the houses, where people live together, sleep, make love, there we see the children playing. Those tiny green parentheses - what can they be? Probably thicket and shrubbery. And all that white? Can it be winter now? Maybe it's just open ground.
A smaller o is connected to the big one. It contains nothing. The silent, empty corridor between them is dimly lit up like by a row of large diffuse windows towards a distant sunset. From some site somewhere just round about here the constant activity of soundless elevator machinery deprives the transitory awareness about it's existence of all it's gravitation.
Then follows quiet organ music.
ORPHAN OF UNRESIDENCEThere was a fragrant quality of thaw somewhat across the window-envelope in her opinion, and she pulled off her glassware instantly. I felt my body detonating in its uptight opposition. It was an early day with great speed exercise. Where did we come home, sister? To nothing; and it was high noon unmannerly to contact the carpelan in charge.
17th SONNET FOR KATIEA journey through the minutes of the night
that no one understands; that's life. Absurdly
blessed be your sleep as well, Katie, all right?
It's all but moonshine finally and thirdly.
So do unite your shadow then with mine,
I'm sleepless just like you, my name evading
all kind of human script as we recline
like distant city lighting faint and fading.
As life is gradually turned a whirl
of ignorance and pleasure be upgraded
to dream this very life. You're not my girl,
will never be, and there's no love that faded.
Reality is not for you and me,
nor sleep, nor love, nor really real are we.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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