Elephants

Not liking noise, and averse to commotion, having coherency but solidly bordered with a thick black line, the tendril of God, the rhizome of being, creating impressions for the insensible unseeable Atman, designates colours, and defines geometrics, to unstrip the distant past and ensemble the foreseeable future, and he measures the lands and he volumes the seas, for it wasn't plotted out proper when it all got made (in less than 160 hours), she sums up the temperature and she builds the barometer, to gather as much information as she can concerning this one-and-only experiment, and they make approximations after inventing their reason, and the tiny grains of their knowledge rises like smoke up into the sky, while nothing is changing, while everything's placid, in this bubble that's pretty much just a hydrogen molecule, where time is a fiction and space isn't matter, but listen; carousel music; something wicked this way comes!, while everything's living, and been so forever, with a hey nonny, or a hi nonny, or maybe just words to that effect, one mile to go, 'nother minute to pass, but don't bother looking for the code (i.e. Who can see the glass of his or her bowl?).

 

*

 

‑Alas! My darling! In my father's castle, we must not sleep in the same room.

‑I know.

‑You must sleep in another wing entirely, in the south wing, whereas I have my room in the north wing!

‑I know.

‑Whilst we have been parted: my brother, on more than one occasion, on more than one evening, has brushed against me, there, in a hallway, in the north wing.

‑Oh?

‑He has brushed against me, pointed part first, or so it seemed to my hip.

‑Is this hallway especially narrow?

‑It is narrow, but not so narrow. It has room for the egress of three.

‑Your brother is an honourable man.

‑Yes; and so I live in a contradictory confusion.

‑Could he have another motive?

‑A motive such as what?

‑I do not know.

‑Why, my darling, can you not come to my room a' nights?

‑But for the guards, and but for the gods, I willfully would.

‑Coward!

‑Nay. Speak you to your brother, next time he spikefully intrudes physically upon you. Let him know of your disappreciation.

‑Think you that a solution?

‑I've no other access to his inner thoughts. Perhaps: challenge him. Make him stand, or fall.

‑Wimp.

 

*

 

When you go outside, it's pretty clear, and widely accepted, that you need some personal protection.

Yes, everyone agrees with that. Borders are important.

Undoubtedly, it's a pro-social matter that there are limits to things, or at least we should pretend there are, regardless of the metaphysics involved.

Sure, save the metaphysics for another time. We're talking protection here!

I see we're perhaps of one mind in these matters.

We most definitely seem to be of one mind here.

You do understand you're under no obligation to buy.

Yes.

That you can cancel your order at any time.

Yes.

Even after delivery is made, you get a cooling-off period.

I've read the fine print and everything.

So, let's get started, shall we? Persona construction is a lot like tailoring. We have to take measurements.

Of course.

I'm sending you our questionnaire....

There it is.

Open it up and start filling it out.

My God! It's eight thousand questions long!

Take your time.

I never thought there was so much involved in the creation of a persona.

Measures of openness, closedness, proximatology, sociology, attitude, some sex, it's all there.

I think I'd rather get one off-the-rack.

I'll send you our catalogue.

 

*

 

The Elephant Man

 

He liked all kinds of elephants.

He liked the ones with one hump as much as he loved the ones with two humps. He wasn't choosy.

All the elephants growing out in the garden: the red ones, the purple ones, the yellow ones. He loved them all.

Sometimes he would breathe in deeply‑any place to do this was as good as any other place‑and into his lungs came a trillion elephants at once.

Of course, he married an elephant: but just one! There were laws against marrying several elephants.

(Two little elephants came along soon after.)

His friends were concerned about his love for elephants. They would tell him: "You got elephants on the brain, man." To which he would reply: "I wish!"

(All his friends were elephants, by the way.)

Citizen Elephant. La Dolce Elephant. North by Northelephant.

He travelled recently to San Diego, on a train full of elephants. He had a grand time on that train.

The hotel was full of elephants, and the streets too.

He went to the San Diego Zoo, having heard of its fame. He happened to come across a huge grey thing behind a fence.

He said: "What's that?"

 

*

 

I dreamed I went back to Henry James last night. All was dark, and burnt up, and destroyed. I didn't know if I could find my way around, but some impulse made me go inside. The entrance-hall was a ruin, but the staircase looked sound, so up it I went. I passed a bookcase containing the master's books, and certain words could still be seen: Portrait, Aspern, Screw. Or so my dream told me.

On the third floor I found a rocking-horse, charred along its edges. Do you know what it's like to see a child's plaything charred along its edges? I touched it hindquarters, and it rocked as if all was well. It didn't care about its body in the least.

How many floors were there to go, in Henry James? The dream did not offer an indication. Another floor up I found a man slouched in an armchair, pensive and bitter. I moved on, upwards.

Some time later, on a higher floor, I witnessed a moving scene, though none of the participants thought it so. A woman moved a hand, said: "I may have said so, then‑‑but I would not say so now."

The vision went away.

 

*

 

Nature likes something about a helix, and this liking is passed into us such that we find circular staircases charming, do we not?

I've filled my house with circular steps. It wasn't really that difficult to do. They take up less space when you think about it. It's not like you're ever going to have a use for a seven-by-seven square space up near any ceiling, now is there?

Another benefit‑one of many and many‑is that it's very difficult to fall down a circular staircase. There's lots to grab onto to regain yourself, after all. There's plenty of railings, and your unidirectional inertia will throw you into one sooner or later.

So, it is what we may call the natural form. Squares, after all, are almost never seen in the wide world. Everything's got curves, and everything wants to be round, and will become round if you wait long enough.

And, of course, there's the famous double helix inside almost everything that's alive. Do you think it could do what it does if it was a bunch of, say, cubes? 'T'would be too inefficient to live.

So, yes, we like them.

Curl this into a tube, and it'll improve 3,000,000,000%.

 

*

 

This afternoon, I walked out of my vintage map store without remembering to put any clothes on, not even my socks.

I got all the way to the sidewalk on King Street before I noticed I'd made this mistake.

A bus pulled up and people got out of it. They were too polite to give any especial attention, and I didn't notice anyone looking down my body, critically or otherwise.

Nonetheless, I didn't get onto the bus, even though it was going where I wanted to go. I figured it would be more efficient to carry my clothes along with me, today rather than tomorrow.

I walked back to my store, and the door was locked, of course, with the key in the pocket of my pants, which were inside the shop, near the Mediterranean section.

Fortunately, there's a secret way in. Unfortunately, it is through the alley behind the row of shops.

I casually walked around the block. I even whistled.

I crawled through the secret way in, carefully so as not to injure my boneless appendages.

And there were all my clothes, beside a 1655 Persia. I put them on, and all was right with the world.

Phew!

 

*

 

With the tidal strength of a thousand sea-lions, the Mighty King looked down upon the myriad buffoons with whom he had surrounded himself. Some wore dark fuzzy hats in imitation of iron-rich volcanoes, while others were dressed as himself (though perhaps with a limb missing).

Steam verily shot from his ears. "Why have I surrounded myself solely with buffoons?"

The nearest buffoon swallowed and said: "Your Highness, we've often asked ourselves the same question."

"And what have you concluded to be the answer?"

"We've concluded the answer is: 'Whoop zabba zabba whoop!'"

The King took this answer and turned it over in his mind for some time, examining it like a gem. "If that is the answer‑whoop zabba zabba whoop‑then I think it is high time I consult my physicist. Physicist!"

The physicist (who was naturally also a buffoon) came forward and saluted sharp and short.

The King asked: "Do you concur that is the answer to the question?"

"I lean more to: 'Whoop zanna zanna whoop.'"

The King weighed the two answers. Which was correct? Perhaps there was a possible synthesis to be made.

The King concluded: "I believe I have found the answer."

"Yes?"

"I will never tell."

 

*

 

Arthur Godfrey could never resist a bargain. In fact, it's unknown if he even once paid retail. One day, when he was idly hanging around in Rocky Marciano's gym, he saw that one of the sparring partners was having trouble with his tape.

Godfrey said: "Trouble with the tape?"

The palooka said: "Yeah. It's not wide enough."

"Let me see what I can do."

Godfrey went out, onto B'Way and W 87th, and went south for a bit. He came across a dingy shop that promised DISCOUNTS! on, amongst a dozen others, SPORTING GOODS, on its window.

He went in.

A trio of tough guys were speaking in code near the cash register. Godfrey assumed one of them was in charge of the joint. "I'm looking for boxing glove tape, Cellulex, three inch. Do you have any?"

One of them said: "Lemme look in the back."

Godfrey browsed the shop. Everything was way too cheap in there. Looked like it'd all break if you touched it. Cheap, cheap stuff.

The tough came back with a roll of tape. "Yeah. Here it is."

Godfrey looked. "Yes, it's perfect."

"That'll be $400."

"What? Why so much?"

The tough shrugged. "Overhead, I guess."

 

*

 

For a long time, I used to go to bed lying on my stomach. I can remember the position, even after all these years. I would stick one or the other arm under the pillow while leaving the other one laid out against my side. The blanket would be tucked over my head, like a cowl, with my ears covered.

Some time in the night, I would inevitably change position to be on one or the other side. My knees I would draw up rather close such that I'd be a snail, protected. And, of course, I'd keep my ears covered. I always had to have my ears covered.

I never slept on my back, for if I did, I couldn't possibly keep my ears covered.

I think that covers all the possible positions. I could manage three out of four, which is a pretty good fraction, all things considered. Some other kids I had seen sleeping, such as James Deakin, could sleep on their backs, with their ears sticking out, but I never could.

I had to keep my ears covered because I didn't want to hear the monsters coming. The monsters were always coming; there's always been monsters.

 

*

 

Breaking up with Yan

 

I woke up that morning having suffered through a dream involving banging and crashing to discover our room had changed somehow. Further observation showed our free-standing closet was gone.

Out in the kitchen I found Yan drinking innocent-looking coffee.

"Where's the closet?" I asked.

"It's out on the sidewalk. A guy is picking it up in fifteen minutes. He paid seven dollars. I'm leaving you."

"I can't find my clothes."

Yan shrugged.

I marched on out to the sidewalk, to where the closet stood in even worse condition than usual. I opened it and my clothes spilled out. I gathered them up and put them on the porch, selecting, as I did so, my togs for the day, which I donned.

Some 'guy' with a hand truck appeared. He noticed the door of the closet was open. I went up to him.

"Where's all the clothes?" he asked.

I told him: "That was a mistake made by my, ah, co-owner. It's just the closet."

"I'm not paying seven dollars for just it."

"Fine. Make it four."

He gave me four dollars and rolled it away.

I had three bucks on me. Yan didn't have to know.

 

*

 

It's late, so it's a cheap shot.

 

‑Oh goodness look, my actor darling husband mine, there's a Broadway audition call that looks right up your alley!

‑Oh? My possible roles I don't come across that often. Prithee, how does it read?

‑Oh, they're looking for a hunchback, such as yourself.

‑Oh? Yes, I do indeed have that deformity. Check that box.

‑Oh, you must a tremendous wit, and a facility with wordplay.

‑Oh, well, you know how I'm the life of all cocktail parties? I think I've got that nailed!

‑Oh, and it says here you must have an evil disposition, and that you must be used to being hissed at by the audience.

‑Oh, I'm used to those shenanigans, it's second nature to me!

‑Oh goodness look you must have blood on your hands!

‑Oh, I've never had anything but blood on my hands! Look at them now!

‑Oh darling they are so very bloody!

‑Oh, but don't let me interrupt you. What else does it ask for?

‑Oh! Oh! There's a snag.

‑Oh, I am a thespian! No nature is foreign to me!

‑You must have been born on the 2nd of October, 1452!

‑Oh, drat! Ruined again!

 

*

 

A large brown bear with a badge pinned to his left shoulder came to my watering hole today. He said: "Dream Police," and gestured with his chin to his badge, which did indeed read DREAM POLICE.

"Yes, hello," I said. "What seems to be the trouble, officer?"

"It's a serious charge," he said, eyeballing me with care. "You've been accused of theft."

"Me? What have I stolen?"

He pulled a memo pad from out his nethers. "You've been taking material from the realm of dreams and fashioning it into stories of a perverse nature. We've had complaints of realmical appropriation."

"Wait. Hold on. They're my dreams. Can't I do with them what I wil't'?"

"That, I'm afraid, is a common and vulgar misperception. Nice watering hole you got here, by the way. Your transgression can be ameliorated, nudge-nudge, through a donation to the Dream Auxiliary Fund, however."

"There's a charity for that?"

"Service. Not charity."

"So, I give you money and ... you'll all leave me alone?"

"You've summed it up nicely," said the bear. "We're on the same page. Appropriation is a serious charge."

"Very serious."

"Serious." He put pen to memo pad. "So: how much?"

"Seventeen bazillion?"

"Perfect."

 

*

 

The Prayer for Rain

 

Please, break. I know you're up there. So, what are you waiting for?

The trees know you are coming. They've bundled up their leaves so they won't fall over.

As in the early days of computer programming, there are no double spaces any more. The world does not allow some things, and it does not allow heat waves to go on longer than this.

Break, break! Let it come down, as the Murderer said!

Those fat clouds packed with moisture are joining me in my prayer. Oh, let us fall! We're but one part of the atmosphere! Give us what we want!

Let your thunder! Let your lightning! Let your hydro be lost! But oh God let it rain!

Florida was unquestionably Hell before air conditioning. So the history books tell us, and the history books were right.

Come on. I know you want it. Give it up to us. Stop this foreplay, and rain!

Rain!

Rain!

Rain!

Rain!

Drowning is not pleasant, but I am drowning from lack of water! So: rain!

Where did I go wrong? Why did I deserve this? How naked can I get? Rain!

Somewhere, happy people are in the rain.

 

*

 

The middle of July

 

It's the middle of July,. and in a coup[le weeks

I''ll have the cjhnce to get out of here ansd go\

To this lake I know with a couple blue herons

Showing upi every once in a whie, like they do,

 

And goodbye poisonous land this somom, this Gomorrah,

Goodbye these weirdos popping out of nowhere

For one week fuck off you randos and you rummys

Fuck you I'm going to star at this there Loing Lakwe.

 

It’s compartatively a little lake,

So donjt' ecpect a lot of TOSPHERICS

Indeed you can see wh at I can see

The still gloass of a lake tored of being a lake\

 

You may end yp liking me, you, I man you,

You can lokmkinto me and I could do the same

Maybe you'll se something rmaertable

And maybe I'' do the same, in youir hear

 

Offg the rock, it's a dozan or twe3nty feet down.

You can'y fine it on any normal mao

vut iof you could I'df sau ho there now

\Cause I'll cojme to loomk in two qwwks\\\

 

Your smoothe shounder, under my hand.

Your tee ch, all clean and smooth.

|Go, jump.|

And you'll jump

 

*

 

Sometimes, a drink I am holding in my left hand is suddenly in my right hand, and sometimes it happens the other way around.

I've often wondered about those times.

More rarely I find that I go from one room to another, and I've moved back in time or forward in time. Once, I lost a whole eight months (which I retrieved a few days later, in the middle of a night).

Innumerable times I've found myself, from one moment to the next, wearing different clothes. That is to say, the colours of my clothes can switch to some other colour entirely. I've even found myself changing my underclothing in this way. I can't explain it.

Though, maybe, I can. As I observe others, they are observing me. What if one gets distracted while looking? Isn't it possible that the one you are talking to got to wearing something different as you walked to the window, then returned?

I thought this was a viable explanation for the whole phenomena, such that I once took to making notes of my environment, in search of changes from moment to moment. However, sometimes I would catch the notes themselves changing.

O multicellular world!