Monday, September 22, 2008

Acoustical Writing

The guards turned him over to the emperor, along with his pen, that elegant weapon of an earlier age. "He was armed only with this."

Etchings on brass plates, impress on clay tablets. A finger writes in dust in 1st Century Judea. Chisel in stone, chalk on a slate, palimpest, a bar killed on this tree (knife carve), oxen-skull mile messages, quill dip, fountain drip, blotting paper, sand and blow, bathroom mirror fingers, dusty car fingers ("Wash me"), spray paint protest, pencil on paper scratching for seeds.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Checking "Other"

No one has a corner on privilege--or marginalization for that matter. Perhaps only the delusional and ruthless (albeit temporarily) or the Alyoshas and Gandhis can feel secure in the world.

Free me from demographics. If I check the "white" box have I stereotyped myself, become prey to cliché?

Can it be that uniqueness is everyone's gift, and unity is everyone's potential?

Monday, September 08, 2008

opening line from another Borgesian book

Cliches Fail Her Again

Tears didn't roll down her cheeks. It wasn't that she didn't cry, but that her tears were rectangular and heavy, like bricks. They couldn't roll.