Saturday, 6 September 2008

Friday, April 07, 2006

and...she is there...


I don't know how it happened, don't ask how it happened, the martian ships flew over;

'be quiet the children are sleeping.'

'My children are sleeping too.'

I tell her to speak to her husband instead.

'He's dead.'

Think, he's either sitting there next to you sleeping, he's dead in a pyschological/meta-physical sense. Or, he's dead. So I'm telling her about dreams of families or whatever, I'm tired not sure what comes into my head, about being a mother, strangely turns into being a father with these fleeting ideas and seriously pondered jokes almost, and how I can't sleep. And, I tell her, as I think about how I used to try and breathe next to him, so I could sleep, regular breathing;

'I have to learn how to breathe on my own.'

And she says, sombrely or otherwise, as she floats away, if I can remember the words:

Friday, April 07, 2006
Sad Women In The Sky

'And you're leaving me with that.'

And I hear a child's voice:

'She hasn't left you! You've left her!'


I don't know how many languages I speak...

che cosa la vostra missione?

portiamo el notizie....what news do you bring to mother earth? i bring news della terra de madre.

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