ACTS

Found this a few years ago while doing the disk cleanup

(obviously not of a recent date)

8 Acts

1 Act of sneezing (resembling a prayer)

2 Act of begging for love (with a certain amount of pride)

I’m not a strawberry, sweet and delicious, pretty little fruit,

your favorite one, to taste slowly only in May

I’m not a rug, even though I lay me down sometimes

I like when we play, but to notice your predictability,

that you’d seem detached when I throw a little ball at you,

and jump on me when my attention turns somewhere else

what a chore, what a disappointment

I know I can be such a pain sometimes,

but please don’t pick little tasty strawberries just because

Once there was this creature, loved late in the evening

after a busy day at work, planning a holocaust

so sometimes I think to myself,

if that was possible on earth

maybe I’d be really loved too

in any given month of the year

3 Act of clapping (applause)

Bodies felt discomfort, then relief
and everyone felt better
because they thought
that their hands precisely
had clapped the hardest

4 Act of searching for an exit

I don’t know which water is okay for me to drink because bottled is wrong and non-bottled is wrong too and I don’t know how I can differ right from wrong when sickness tastes like heaven and health tastes like sickness and I don’t know if change is really possible for me if I can’t change memories of myself and anything I have done before and I don’t know which water is okay for me and I don’t know what I want and I don’t know how to avoid dilemma and I don’t know how one can relax in one’s body when it definitely isn’t a temple nor a machine and I don’t know how to change my body parts so they can function better for me to function better and produce better things and build new temples I don’t know which water is okay for me to drink because bottled is wrong and non-bottled is wrong too and I don’t know how to live with the end of the world on my back and I don’t know how I can have a beginning if I already have the end on my back and I don’t know how not to doubt anything as much as I doubt myself and I don’t know how I can decide when my cells go in pairs one right and one wrong and one solid and one fluid and one dynamic and one static and one for me and one against me I don’t know how I can live with the end of the world on my back and I desire to be a machine

5 Act of moving

Physical work equals tougher dance

Simplification and reminiscence of

one’s forgotten body

A vague line between head’s command
and a capricious motion of upper and lower limbs

Yesterday I was a body
I danced the work away

6 Act of walking around anxiously

Pigeon sex lasts extremely short
approximately nine seconds,
approximately as long as you need
to stir up your coffee

Afterwards, they pretend
to ignore each other
in a very similar way
to humans

7 Act of going home (embracing atavistic sensations)

I’ve never been there, but I’ll go

I love coming back to places
I’ve never been before

unknown = familiar

Memories of what I haven’t
maybe experienced indeed
hints of familiar in the unknown

are the best memories
I’ve ever had

8 Act of letting yourself rely on

Once I came back from the North Pole with two left
footed sandals in my bag

I simply trusted a salesperson