Homecoming
sabbath
Posts: 35
I've replaced you pitifully many times in
rooms, in beds where I can hear people
saying, "This man is dead." But I'm not-- I'm
only sleeping, only resting, being very still.
And that's not an excuse. My very young
brother asked when a deer was shot in a
movie: "Is that deer sleeping?" And I said
yes for his own good. When you're very
still, the landscape stretches and reveals new
things-- monoliths, previously dots on the horizon,
loom and threaten to crush or force you to run;
smells mean everything and, as efficient as
algebra, can move you about in sleep as if
they were pack animals bringing you of their
own accord, by their own route in dead night
to a green spot, to water, divining rods itching
in your skull. Thrusting my head under, I'm left
prostrate to it-- your ghost's homecoming; I'm lost
and strangled dumb with a throat full of water,
a gasp full of a dog's happiness.
rooms, in beds where I can hear people
saying, "This man is dead." But I'm not-- I'm
only sleeping, only resting, being very still.
And that's not an excuse. My very young
brother asked when a deer was shot in a
movie: "Is that deer sleeping?" And I said
yes for his own good. When you're very
still, the landscape stretches and reveals new
things-- monoliths, previously dots on the horizon,
loom and threaten to crush or force you to run;
smells mean everything and, as efficient as
algebra, can move you about in sleep as if
they were pack animals bringing you of their
own accord, by their own route in dead night
to a green spot, to water, divining rods itching
in your skull. Thrusting my head under, I'm left
prostrate to it-- your ghost's homecoming; I'm lost
and strangled dumb with a throat full of water,
a gasp full of a dog's happiness.
fkjghldfkjh
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