In the beginning everyone looked like Larry Bird
but everyone did not have the name Larry Bird
& this was confusing. Everyone had a headache
& walked around with furrowed brows. Headaches
been invented & when people described the pain
they said: An angry Larry Bird stands on my neck
& my head is Larry Bird after missing a layup.
Even the babies were the size & shape of Larry Bird.
Since everyone looked like
Larry Bird they avoided
extravagant events. All the clubs shut down, no one
could watch a Larry Bird dance without
that they danced like this, pursed lips, flagellum legs,
arms like wild fire hoses. The real Larry
to his basement. He wore magnifying goggles
& built watches of smaller & smaller dimension.
He built watches so small that he needed a microscope
to affix the springs & levers in the right places.
built watches so small that he called them cells.
He built watches so small that he called them atoms.
In the beginning everything I said exploded. I would say I am holding a glass of ice water &
the glass of ice water would explode. I would mumble to myself Where’s my cell phone & hear a
small boom in the bedroom. My first word was Daddy. After that I didn’t speak for ten years.
I tried to use my explosions for good. I said shuffling feet & never heard that scrape again.
I said crooked politicians but the next day there was a new batch of them giving press conferences after the memorial services.
I almost said nuclear warheads & then decided that this might be unwise.
I made lists of words I could not say. Words like oak, mother & pills. Words like journalists, femurs & workers.
I would walk around with my buddies after the bars closed & once I forgot & said That Dan Rather is a respectable news source, huh? & everyone froze & my buddy Sutter punched me in the shoulder. It took two weeks until there were new
newspapers. I told my fiancé I loved her & just like that the love was gone.
In the spaces where the things used to be, in the craters left after the explosions a new kind of
mold grows. It grows orange on some days & yellow on others. It grows quickly & always toward me. I’m not sure
what will happen when the mold reaches me but I hope I will be brave. I hope I will not say mold. There is so much I shouldn’t
tell you. I know your name is Seashore. But your name is Animal. That’s my name too.
A little boy cut a circle
out of yellow paper
& this became the sun.
The little boy laid
a sheet of blue paper
on the floor & this
became the oceans.
The little boy cut
a daisy chain of people
out of paper & hung
it on the
wall & this
It was nice for a while.
The people were happy
to just exist,
the sun & the oceans,
they liked talking to people,
they liked how the wall felt
Eventually they tired
of hanging on the wall.
They wanted these things:
in the oceans,
to tan on their backs,
to talk to more than two people.
They passed their plan
along the chain of people.
On the count of three
they would all pull their
arms & legs in, ripping
them all from each other.
On three they all pulled.
It was the first ripping sound
the world ever knew,
this world used to cutting.
It worked. The people
fell from the wall. Some
fell in the oceans, waterlogged
& sank to the bottom. Some
drifted near the sun
& burned up. Most fell
on the earth, but realized
that they were paper
& incapable of mobility.
They stayed in the spot
where they'd fallen.
lucky enough to have fallen
near each other talked constantly.
All they talked about
how they missed the wall.