Saturday, 11 January 2014

An exploration of space

Coffee stains on the desktop look like the rings of Jupiter, look like a promise of intergalactic exploration, look like a sign from the gods. I give up on cowgirls and dedicate myself to becoming an astronaut. When I tell her that space makes me so claustrophobic, I just hope she can understand.

There’s something about being tied up in that space shuttle with nothingness lapping against all the windows. There’s something about depth perception and the endlessness of pure guttural black. I still want a handjob on a rollercoaster more than just abut anything in the universe. In all of my spiral notebooks, I write the word Kaboom.

Testing the mantra of First thought, best thought, testing my mettle at this hour of the day. All of last night’s spiders are scuttering out of their own morning hideouts and I am left holding an empty plastic bag. I am left myself and coffee. The sky is so goddamn blue that I cannot imagine that even a rocket could reach all the way to black.

Still, there’s nothing else for this day but to take the choice between pony rumps and potassium explosions. There’s nothing else but picking a costume to stand guard between myself and the world. I look in a closet that is nothing but polyester and decide that today I will be flammable. I will be drip clean. I will get into trouble all by myself.

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