Somewhere between male and female the soul lives unstirred by the memory of childhood. Somewhere between the Destroyer of Obstacles and the Goddess of Fortune the soul lives in a state of constant hip hop guided by a white flashlight. Somewhere between now and now the soul lives possessed by the certainty that it is always in transition and will always live in between the present and the present. Somewhere between Terminal 2 and Terminal 3 the soul lives in a million humans who will pass through life in the third person. Somewhere between the Real Shiva and the Statue of Shiva on display at the Art Institute of Chicago the soul lives in every person. In between the clowns and grapefruits. In between the yellow bus driver and the happy waiter. In between the zoo and the opera house. Between life and death. The soul lives light as a father. Or feather.
We rolled over, but not on top of each other, because we’re not into that. I reached behind ma’s head and fluffed up the pillow. She kind of looked like this rugged rabbit with cabbage ears surrounded by a beautifully gloomy white cloud. Like a bunny, she wiggled her nose. Wiggled herself into my arms and close to my heart.
In a time of names a spoken antelope hopes for mud and insects. Mud and insects or whatever uncle measures informs a notion of a dismantled ship. Hope passes for a gun in a time of names. *collage haiku using found text
“It takes courage to be afraid.” –Montaigne, Essays, III, 6 (1588) Nothing scares the sun anymore. Not even sinking into the black sea. Not even the black sea and its power over sunsets. Not even the scars or parked cars on Sunday or the squirrels that dream of big things from the tops of enormous […]
The bridge & cranes dream of dogs and cats. They squint and find wormholes into other worlds. What they discover: there’s always one light that’s brighter than the other. And they are drawn to its luminescence with purpose. But there’s always something else in the distance, they think. Their fiercely squinted eyes look funny to […]
My name is Neil de la Flor and I am Almost Dorothy. I’m also the Executive Director of Reading Queer.Today, I need your help! Please consider supporting RQ’s mission to transform the community through the act & the art of creative writing @ http://readingqueer.org.
- Shabby Little Rabbit
- A Defense Against Sound & Order
- A Story About A Sunset
- A Story About Biscayne Bay
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