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Sunday 29 March 2020

Puddle

It’s spring, and there may not be much time left. What matters? Let’s begin the process of elimination, and let’s begin at the top. Am I interested in what happens to me? No. Things have happened to me before, I know what happening is. The velocity of this rain is a fraction more or less than any I’ve previously experienced, so what. Am I interested, then, in what happens to others? There is a mantis I can’t see, beneath layers of decayed leaves. Set aside questions of what the mantis wants, how it wants, or whether its wanting runs along the same gutters we know, and just go for the mantis itself. Is that enough? Ha! Now set this aside, too; who cares what’s been asked of this or that. We know what asking is, we know what it leads to and what it’s all about. Give me a puddle. Maybe it’s February, maybe it’s May, whatever, I’m not interested. The puddle’s got an edge: at some point a puddle must end and the world must begin. Now we’re getting closer to the important shit. Look to the left. There’ll be some sort of conifer, water-laden, or a single duck. In any case, don’t worry, there is enough of whatever you see for everyone, images are infinite that way. I’m not interested in your proofs against this, didn’t I basically just say I’m not even interested in what I’m saying? Step in the puddle. There is no other means of doing what we’re doing now. Cup the cool water in your palm. It’s not matter that makes matter matter, and it’s not the sign of the cross. So what is it? We’re finally coming to it now. The duck quacks, and then again, maybe it doesn’t. Go deeper. If you can, fit your whole body in the puddle. If you can’t, all is lost. At its very center is the thing that will make the puddle, and everything, new. That’s it. I’m interested in that. Is it baptism? Stop, please, your attempts at understanding are getting in the way. It’s this. Pay attention! This. Go all the way in the puddle now.


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