Category: creature watching

considering context

this solution an unknown substance, dissolving

No, meaning is not the cat’s pajamas. I think but cannot tell you how. Neither is it the bees’ knees. Do these dream in flower? I can only imagine. It isn’t exactly remembrance or having the same nightmare as the night before. This morning’s visitor wonders whether deer think in words without knowing it, so now I wonder whether I might read in flower, unaware as one who by the swallowing presence of an atmospheric mind, can write herd even when alone, and smell the wild prairie poem, recited in honeybee. 

***

Inspired by Bernadette Meyer.

The Invisibles

Here and now, unseen.

There are plenty of us floating around, unborn beginnings. We are translucent sacs, blooming bodies like the bells of see anemones. We pull substance into us and release, moving in a way reminiscent of flight but not birds, of flight but not planes, neither Icarus falling nor hero triumphant. We are the unrecorded. 

Transience

After space

First was displacement across a hollowing, echoing earth. Then came the longing of the rest of us, still here. The ache to know a place. Meanwhile, we remain tethered to one or another edge but mostly floating, trying to listen to the remaining birds. Who seem sometimes to suggest a song to somewhere.

Deer Friends

In this condition

Being a human creature makes me prone to bouts of fantasy. Such as, sometimes I get it in my head that I would like to go out and run with some deer, with feelings of vague and wistful longing. Then occurs to me that following an impulse like this to its natural conclusion will likely result in an awkward encounter, as I do not currently have any actual friends who are deer. If I did, I would probably know that going for a run through some woods or across a field or even a highway–– however spontaneous it may seem in a moment–– is the sort of thing one must be invited to do. Then I recall what kind of creature I really am, and feel vaguely ashamed, which seems like another habit particular to my kind.

Cat Talk

Purr, an example

Like yes but don’t get too close. Yet. Yes, but don’t touch me. Until now. Yes, you but I don’t entirely trust anyone. Yes, but I need and need. Yes, but time. But here. But possibly unsafe. I go again. I will go. This window, though. The long slant of light. I fold myself into it. To be without holding my breath for what’s next. This breath, I let it go.