If I could marry words, I would. Letters falling down the back of my neck: Full-body Language tuxedo. Shiny shoes, marble heiroglyphics. The alter, filled with alphabetics and language, of all genres and types. Standing there, eyes adjusting to the letters of words and all of the letters' family and words' family who would join us, all of us there, at the ceremony. Dictionaries would be alive with grace and glee. I'd smile, my teeth made of words: proverbs, hypertextuality, cut-up and diced texts, expressive-unexpressions of unknown language yet to be discovered. Paragraphs and adjectives as flower-girls. Words, sentences and paragraphs in foreign languages wrapped into one complete ring, for each of us. The minister, a large question mark, pronouncing us the prouncement of what textuality exists of; Humanity to Language, Language to Humanity. A cathedral of Conversings. The love of words and I; sentences and I; paragraphs and I; chapters and I; Language and I: together, adjoined, fully and thoroughly. If I could marry words, I would.


museum of fire said...

if you need someone to play the organ just let me know... although you're more likely to get Mancini than Mendelssohn - no wedding to remember is complete without a whirl through Baby Elephant Walk.

Now, off to 'mill' about through some of your other pine-scented posts...


Jiffy Cat said...

The marble heiroglyphics can get a bit heavy.. but I hear ya..