thereI heard about a quiet girl who ate
24 bananas
she walked past me, belching melodically
cleared the dishes
fed the dog with a knife and fork
her thin arms hanging down beside her
and her stomach wriggling
over the top of her pants
her food baby/ the silent life
she made up for
banging around in her belly
the oranges will be here soon
reading wittgenstein is like walking wading fighting through glue, through honey (the kind she spreads through her hair? maybe like navigating through her honeyed hair) and to suddenly find yourself flapping your arms absurdly because the glue's gone, you're alone and naked and trying to swim your way across, to not drown in an empty pool--
then dancing: the one im scared of is the one who makes you dance, flap flap swing bring you here spin you there fling your arms wriggle your legs remember all these parts of your body you didn't know existed --but you can't remember them then can you?- its hopping jumping swinging in the middle of a hundred people who are just watching
one more thing to tell you:
the weather
it is here
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