Friday, December 30, 2011

POISON EMPATHY

My drain is seeking another pattern or knot-style
in trapping its hair. Is it the new public shame chemical
my body produces and must have cellularly
begun to shed? It takes practice to trap the hair
this way, to arrange it just so – it will take
a good grasp of the logic underlying Lego pole dancing.
I was ashamed when another cyclops yesterday pushed
his/her shopping trolley past my black Mitsubishi –
no one can stand the sight of the handicap
sticker I've got on the back. After a day like this,
I take a shower and the drain clots with hair, while
glowing faintly. Of course I appreciate that EVERY handicap
sticker, if you squint at it, if you invoke a mood that fills your
eyes with clever little prisms, features a Kung Fu master in
the middle of kicking a foe in the nuts or smugly breaking
a cow's neck. This isn't a bad message I'm sending with the sticker.
I'm not even asking for sympathy, sticking it to the back
of my car. A week ago when I started the classes
it was quite hard to get used to the idea, the
feeling, of sitting next to a rotten corpse;
but not only do the rotten corpse and I now go to the same
bakery; our life improvement classes both encourage
showering after touching the drippy handle of human empathy.
And when I shower, the drain looks like this. But when the
corpse showers, the drain is pristine and even smells nice.
Weren't we all there to curry human empathy?
I touch it way more than the corpse does, or I bet even
the cyclops pushing his trolley. There are a few moments
afterward in which one doesn't know what next to expect -
very soon there's the feeling that traditionally
comes after a quick decapitation. One ceases to exist.
A turd floating in a jumpsuit, all of a sudden a different … personality
type. A dildo instead of a pacemaker. A nailgun
that can aim through, without necessarily disturbing, a
pretzel's heartbeat. A tandem bike that subjects
its occupants to electrocution, with the sound of a million
orphanages ringing from its spokes. A shining exemplar of
Victorian industrial design.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Search This Blog

There was an error in this gadget

Followers