growing wild in the field
behind your house, like a small
fire. a hundred yellow mouths
turn skyward, waiting
for rain.
the wind moves through them,
cold as a passerby, rattling
stem to root.
20090318
.smear.the.queers.
On Tuesday, I overheard a lady in the bus station reading the Holy Bible to herself, when a man sitting across from her interrupted her politely and started conversation. He asked what book she was reading and she replied.
"The thing I never understood about the Bible, is in that Chapter you're reading, Genesis [it was Numbers], it says that Cain and Able moved around and married other people. But if Adam and Eve were the only two people that God made, and they were their only kids, then who did they marry?"
She didn't have an answer, but appreciated the question.
On Wednesday, I was co-hosting a radio show at the University of Western Ontario, and as my friend and I were walking out of the studio, and out of the building, we were stopped by a girl with a Japanese name who asked if she could take a picture of us for her fashion blog. We shrugged and said why not, even though Lulu hadn't showered in days, and I happened to look like a monochrome menace. We did a Crystal Castles pose, and she asked us before we left if we were related. Cousins? Brother and sister?
On Thursday, I wondered who was really related to who, and as familial social order collapsed around me, I saw only sacks of flesh walking down the street, pulpy fruits of family trees smashed into the pavement like a grotesque painting.
We are artists.
"The thing I never understood about the Bible, is in that Chapter you're reading, Genesis [it was Numbers], it says that Cain and Able moved around and married other people. But if Adam and Eve were the only two people that God made, and they were their only kids, then who did they marry?"
She didn't have an answer, but appreciated the question.
On Wednesday, I was co-hosting a radio show at the University of Western Ontario, and as my friend and I were walking out of the studio, and out of the building, we were stopped by a girl with a Japanese name who asked if she could take a picture of us for her fashion blog. We shrugged and said why not, even though Lulu hadn't showered in days, and I happened to look like a monochrome menace. We did a Crystal Castles pose, and she asked us before we left if we were related. Cousins? Brother and sister?
On Thursday, I wondered who was really related to who, and as familial social order collapsed around me, I saw only sacks of flesh walking down the street, pulpy fruits of family trees smashed into the pavement like a grotesque painting.
We are artists.
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