There was no God in my childhood, and now
I miss him, in armlessness. Could’ve used
a god’s arms since I lost my own! But listen: it was the man
with God in his childhood who took away my arms. Now he has
mine, his own and God’s – what
the fuck?! God, what for is my e-mail password
your prophet’s name, Isaiah?
Whyfore do I type “Isaiah,”
“Isaiah,” at least 20 times a day?
I’ll change it. To “gimmebackmyarms07.”
I’ll change it to “Lenin-nothing.” I’ll change it to the
face of the rabbit that comes at the end
of autumn, meaning “nothing,” & disappears
among the leaves—
are you scared
of this thing behind the wallpaper? It’s
silence. Everyone, at once, peel off your wallpaper! As soon
as it’s down, phones will stop
ringing, your husbands
won’t come home from the office— —Wait, what husbands?
—Those you never loved, and so it follows—
we never once made love. How scared I was
to close the garden door. No-one
out there in the dark green twitchless dusk to reopen it Remember
on her wedding day, in a hired castle, who
closed on herself a door
that wouldn’t open from within (a system of levers
built into the wall)— fifty years later
she’s found by the caretaker, still white-
gloved— clutching a knife—
would I have tried to eat the glove? My hand? Well,
I peeled him off,
even without arms. —You mean, the husband? —Yes, ‘cause
of his problem. He lost things. Like Peter
Pan’s shadow: you know, when he lost it? —Yes.
—Well, it was God.
by Ana Božičević
published in Absent Magazine
That is what I was reading the other day. I kept it up on my computer for about three days. Are you following me? (I wish.) xoxoxo
hugs to you peoples. thanks for reading.
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