Sunday, March 22, 2015

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.

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