The characters inside your stereo
Don’t often hear the word ‘no’
Outside the brutish beasts of flesh & filth & bone
Fumble with their roles
They can’t conceive of Australia
They climb on stage each time you take them to the theater
They’re still confusing scripts & souls
They haven’t found the controls
When they put me in the TV
It all became clear to meSome of us are right & natural
The rest are coated in pyrex and are digging us all a hole
Didn’t want to edit the text as such, but the last couplet is perfectly honest. [Subject] honestly doesn’t know which is which.
Presume multiplicity of subjectivities then?
In any case, a welcome return to previous themes of what one can and can’t explain to a dear friend when they insist on your treating them like a small child.
Awareness of problems is not the same as a grip on reality or an understanding of solutions – this is paralleled in discussions of death in certain currently unpublished manuscripts…
If this were myspace I’d be ascribing kudos.
Thank heavens it etc etc
Yes! Small children indeed. But then we are faced with the notion of being players in the game and an easy analogy isn’t so clear anymore. So the children have pets and toys. At some point you have to feel sympathy for the doll that gets its hair pulled and the obese dog chained to the back door, when the child, even if only for a second, drops the twinkly eyes and the fascinating mundaneness of spirit. Three’s a crowd, you just need audience participation (pfff!).