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The Frolic

I take Your hand; we walk (towards where the roses once grew...)

I lie back in the grass and dream of how it once was; the rubbishstrewn streets, riperising smell of gutters and rain; the children abandoned (mother recalls child in pool:"What is that that lies? Deadchilddead"). I have such night mares; and You're in all of them. It's worse than You or I can know. On the edge of the clouds we crouch; we smile and spit. The pool of saliva coruscates below our feet. It shifts; children with knives begin to rise from it. They laugh and blow kisses at the moon.

We think it's the rain; I see a bird move onto the table in my garden; its beak scoops up the seeds. The green of the grass and the blue of the sky are immense and terrifying everything seems so close so very very close should a storm come should a storm break and halo all around us as some savage and blind jerking his hands out to us the birds drop all around us.

I walk into the altar room all the buddhas are smached there Avalokitesvara's hundred faces lie shattered I have done this.

I walk to the makeshift redbrick altar a hundred years ago there is a small brass image there I have built this the red and black ants mill around unknown journeys I take my lighter and torch them I take my lighter and torch them I weep I weep the ants scatter or writhe I take my lighter and torch them torch them I weep I have done this I am surrounded by butterflies the child's legs lay smashed 'Please pray for him' She says to me too late ohsotoolate

I see the twinkling stars I drop a photpgraph I bend to pick it up my heart leaps as I see Your face stare up at me from the papers as if still alve on this earth when I return my eyes to the stars they're gathered; they pucker and they are blind.

oh what have I become I have become that i hate I have become that I shall say no.

The bird is dead now alas...

A voice whispers to me and says "Nothing nothing ther is nothing" I look up to my right and see her face again as once when I was oh so young and again the world disappears... and all fall down I allfall down we all fall down.


Thomas Pretsch, pri@prism.franken.de