Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Full Moon, Rising Soon, Sunset Georgian Bay August 2019

8/16/19, at Georgian/Glacier Bay

So this morning she invents rituals for her mongrel tribe
After the father dies, you shall enter a cave for three days and live without food or water
When you emerge, you must call for him in a loud voice and when he does not answer, you must bury your head in your hands and grieve in your way for the rest of the day

When the mother dies, you shall enter the woods and wander on purpose to be lost
When you feel completely lost you must despair and call for her
When she does not answer, you shall lie on the earth and kick with your legs and punch the air with your arms and wail and rage as loud as your voice allows.
 When you finally fall asleep you dream that she is holding you in her arms and you are sucking her tit. Waking you realize that she is with you giving you strength to find your way home

When the sibling dies you shall swim in deep cold water over your head until you are exhausted and when you feel that you surely shall drown you must cry out loud for other siblings to come to your aid
When they do not come—they do not or will not hear you, you must rescue yourself

When the lover dies the lover shall wander the earth—cities and towns and wild wastes—crying out for the beloved in any and all languages that she knows. He shall curse the lover, she shall praise the lover. She shall enter the empress’s castle as a spy and spy on all lovers there. He shall enter the bodies of the lovers at the moment of orgasm and take on the ecstasy of each then slip away to hibernate/estivate/germinate anew 

When the spouse dies the spouse shall disappear from all viewers and times and places into a space of no thing no person no animal no sun no rain no wind no ice no heat no storms no earthquakes no tsunamis or hurricanes. The spouse shall disappear therefore into a void to die while alive to let go of their life to let go of their memory to let go of their heart/mind/soul to let go of life itself to practice dying. After practicing, the spouse can return or stay dead/undead as the signs reveal.

When the child dies the sibling/parent/aunt/uncle/cousin/grandfather/mother must build altars for them, say shiva for them, crying out: “Luckypup, lucky puss, you have dodged the bullet of more life, of sorrow, of disaster/defeat/disappointment, of the shit river. Cursedpup, cursedpuss, you have left us forever with your shining face and limber limbs unfinished your mindbody pure of the stain of lust of procreation of longing, lucky/unlucky pup we miss you as we miss nothing else as we miss the nothing that you left behind as we miss you reading the runes of our lives
you still outlive us

Speaking about language with the Canadian boys
They know that it is arbitrary, their Vietnamese grandmother, like your Polish grandmother, never spoke her native language to you.  No, scratch that, your Polish grandmother tried when you were eight and living on Perry street and she was visiting from Jersey. She spoke of masculine and feminine pronouns and you gave up. You gave up because you did not understand what she meant by masculine and feminine pronouns.



1 comment: