Several Small Species...all in their right place.

Page 9 of The Notebook, 1993-2007, by Myself and Uncle James Terrance

Lorean eating. Lorean chasing me with her cane while a frying pan gets 'banged' violently by a spoon in the background.

This poems sucks me dry:

975 Harvard

In the kitchen
next to the round, glass table
almost underneath the ceiling fan
there is an energy
I refuse

In the dark
one roommate asks:
do you feel it?

A blur
from the corner
of my eye
in the living room

~Krista Franklin

Thank you, Krista.


If you catch a black widow and leave it in a jar long enough, it will eventually liquidate. This is true. Some people blame others for their problems, but that's like sticking your hand inside of a rattlesnake's mouth and then wondering why it bit you. As a child I roamed around my Grandparents' back yard --- dirt spots formed in the yard as if I had left my mark for future observances, like when one carves their name and date in wet concrete, and later go back to see it there, carved like an ancient glyph. The smell of figs and bird-seed; the home-made "tapeball" baseballs made by Paw-paw that would go flying into the "bye bye zone", never to be seen again. No shilly-shallying: craze for musicals. Harmless peekaboo-sex of the 20s. Suggestions of removability. Incapable. Gesticulated. Loud and long. Duty. Metaphysical horror. Solemn. Swamp before my eyes. Feeble applause nearside, head warmed by the fresh skin of cleanliness. If I overhear you talking. Long yellow curtains. Disparate. Controlling all that we see and hear. Adulation, sweetness and light were winning the day. Apotheosis. Breathing brittle. Dilineation. Hand to mouth. Festooned with cables. Bristling brooms. Unctuous. Sociological syndrome. As reticent and reputed. Why annoying? Efficient. Perfunctory. Stung-fresh. Trophies. Mounted steadily. Unremittingly. Impotence. Pinning ones exclusion.

. . .and the ability to listen to two or more things at once when you want to. This sensation occurs to me, particularly when I am lying in bed at night. The over-head fan, moving like a motor, will seem louder, and with the sound of the air and the dust-particles swirling around (unnoticed by the naked eye) can be heard, and my audible-sensories will often pick up the most minute of sounds, including the air against various opened-spaces in small crevices across the room, and when dust-particles land on various things in the room, they are picked up. Thinking to myself (like the constant rotation of a washing machine) also sounds a lot "louder", as if someone else is speaking instead of my own "voice" that I can hear in my mind; but something much more broad and "deeper." These instances don't always occur; but only every now and then, which only last for around 3-5 minutes.

Photograph by Stephan Rabold

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