6507. THINKING ABOUT THE APPLE

THINKING ABOUT 

THE APPLE

Tonight I am thinking about the apple but I

don't know what I mean : certainly not the

computer name and maybe not even the story

of Eden. I do not know. What I can surmise from

the juice of this core is a tale about seed and

germination, and blossom and fruit. I guess then

about how it is that things grow, and we consume.

-

You see, my own life predates all of that; yes, 

even Eden. I have long tentacles reaching far back

to dark channels of pre-time time. When the formless

void of John was yet the formless void, forget John.

How difficult any of this is for me to tell, I cannot

get across. Blasphemy  -  never long in style  -  

somehow beats hubris these days still. I

think that I will walk astride a river.

-

I once had a thousand names : churlish, powerful,

decrepit or strong enough, they stood  -  each name  -

to different people for different things. Some would

mention me by name, others would not. I grew used

to the silences, just as I'd grown used to the noise :

sacrifices and smokes, sheep braying before their

deaths, some fools cutting out hearts and flaming

figures dancing their dances of death  -  immolation

with but wordless enactment. I never knew, though

they really all thought I did, or cared. Fools.