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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
October 11, 2010
Surreal and conceptual, letters out the window 2 by `wildoats defies anyone who would try to summarize it for a description comment.
Featured by nycterent
Suggested by somestrangebirds
Literature Text
Dear stranger . . .
A man with a torch – that’s you – comes into my house and says, I'm here, I ought to burn your house down . . .
But will you let me collect my hospitalities, and present them to you, all lined up in a row? There are so many! First, I ought to offer you a drink . . . then I ought to ask you to sit . . . then I ought to ask about the wife and kids . . .
But you say, it’s best if I don’t stay long – I ought to just torch your house and be on my way – I don’t want the mind to demand other things from me . . .
Start here, I say, gesturing towards the bedroom. It seems most flammable . . .
And a woman with eyes – that’s you, also – comes inside. I heard someone was about to burn this house down, you say. I nod. I ought to be in love, soon. I’d like to just stand in this house a while. I ought to just devour your hospitalities . . . I want to be here when the house burns – it’s such a romantic setting.
And a man – that’s you – emerges from the hallway and says, oh, I simply cannot stay for long . . . I ought to leave before the mind demands other things . . .
And you, as a woman, ask, what’s the syntax of a burning house? Is it a long, slow ordeal, or is it a sharp punch? Oh, and life is such a syntactical thing, and love’s when it flurries all around – I want to watch this house burn . . . oh, oh, I’ll be so in love . . .
I ought to skip the hospitalities and head straight to the point – what’s it like from the other side?
The woman side – the human side . . .
A man with a torch – that’s you – comes into my house and says, I'm here, I ought to burn your house down . . .
But will you let me collect my hospitalities, and present them to you, all lined up in a row? There are so many! First, I ought to offer you a drink . . . then I ought to ask you to sit . . . then I ought to ask about the wife and kids . . .
But you say, it’s best if I don’t stay long – I ought to just torch your house and be on my way – I don’t want the mind to demand other things from me . . .
Start here, I say, gesturing towards the bedroom. It seems most flammable . . .
And a woman with eyes – that’s you, also – comes inside. I heard someone was about to burn this house down, you say. I nod. I ought to be in love, soon. I’d like to just stand in this house a while. I ought to just devour your hospitalities . . . I want to be here when the house burns – it’s such a romantic setting.
And a man – that’s you – emerges from the hallway and says, oh, I simply cannot stay for long . . . I ought to leave before the mind demands other things . . .
And you, as a woman, ask, what’s the syntax of a burning house? Is it a long, slow ordeal, or is it a sharp punch? Oh, and life is such a syntactical thing, and love’s when it flurries all around – I want to watch this house burn . . . oh, oh, I’ll be so in love . . .
I ought to skip the hospitalities and head straight to the point – what’s it like from the other side?
The woman side – the human side . . .
Literature
Uncoordinated Longitude
When I picked up the phone she told me that she missed the trains
and the way the rain smelled in the summer.
I scratched a pattern in the table with my thumbnail. I stretched
the phone cord between my fingers and said I was sorry.
She asked what I had to be sorry about and I told her I didn't know.
I twisted the cord into a clover shape while I remembered
her laugh when we picked up the penny off of the tracks, tossing it
back and forth, watching it catch the light and throw it back.
She asks me where I am and I know she does not ask where so much
as why.
Literature
Domestic
gnashing teeth and wild horse eyes
quiver skin in the morning
the nettles sting my spine.
where is my open field,
the tongues of trumpet swans,
my dew covered courtyard
with the willow tree?
Literature
I Used To Be A Fox
To be a fox again, slender was my frame for once in my adult years,
the fat of my gluttony shed for a moment, like the athletic child I'd been.
Still, so hungry I bit and bat at the terrified rabbits, snapping a neck,
and so I began to eat a dear old friend of mine, none the wiser, poor Julia.
On the eve of our downfall, the cities stopped their incessant buzzing,
Rockets froze in the air, vapour and fire became a beautiful thing.
Some tired, bored creator, caught in a moment of whimsy,
Shifted our souls from one thing to the next, a wonderful game it must have been.
As a grasshopper, I perched on a tear in a paper door, playing my n
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Comments28
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactHello! I did a quick skim of this on my profile and decided to come here to read the whole thing, and here is what I have to say:
I will give you credit for an original idea and a creative setup. I enjooy the fact that we see the perspectives of three different people: The woman side, the human side, and the narrator, if I understand. Which, on that note, brings me to the downer point of this--I had trouble understanding what was going on and who was talking t points. You italicized the words for each person which made it a little clearer, but was still a little bit hard to get at first.
I also wonder about the two different "sides"--The woman and the human. I apologize, but what does this mean? It leaves me pondering.
All in all, very creative and original. Good job! <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>