The Good Green Earth [2012]

          I have been walking in circles upon our Good Green Earth, one inhabited by Rabbits and Squirrels and Dogs and Birds.  I am dressed in leather the color of the sky, and I am blue beneath it.  Everything is going according to plan.  However, after some equal distance, I am exhausted beyond the ability to rationalize my place in this system.  I have forgotten what the fur on my arms used to feel like.  I begin to sweat Dogs, from the mouth, like a Dog.  (This is the work of God, I am told, and I would howl to him if I were a dog.)

I have been scratching in the dirt, tugging at my

chain, and snorting in frustration every time

the Man walks by.  He notices me, but acts as if

he does not; as if he does not know that I am

hungry; as if he does not know that I'd tear out

his throat; as if he does not know that I need to 

fuck; as if he does not know that I am 

thoughtful.  Give me but one opportunity, God, 

and I will reduce him to me.  I will string him 

behind me and fail to take notice as he makes 

less than shit.

          The Man Man replacing the roof beneath the Good Orange Sun has been sweating Dogs and Cats since early this morning.  His mouth is broken open, unhinged at the jaw, and his Cats have entered our system.  This Man Man has begun to swallow our simple house whole.  Whole, his Feline Men are predators, and the Rabbits and Squirrels and Birds, having suffered innumerable losses, are not.  The Rabbits have burrowed beneath our Good Green Earth.  The Birds have taken flight above it.  But the Squirrels, they cower, perched atop a telephone wire, piss and shit dripping from their underdressings, as they wait for the predator Feline Men to throw rocks at them and bare their nubby fangs.  The Man Man is full and belches beneath the Good Orange Sun, upon the Good Green Earth.  God is smiling down in beams to him and his Feline Men.

I am not wearing pants, as had been previously

stated, and I am not shitting upon the earth

and Feline Men because I am frightened, but 

because they are beneath me.  They are one 

with my fecal matter, and they are one with my

urine, and they would be one with my nuts if I

had any.  If I could, I would nest in the hollow

head of feline man, move in my grass, wood 

chips and acorn tops, and yank his limbs

until he assumed the dumb stance of a tree.  I

would then dress myself, head to toe, in his 

hide.

          I am peeling off my leather the color of the sky, and I have become black beneath it.  Everything has strayed from the plan.  The hair on my arms has grown black, thick, and coarse.  The Good Green Earth is laughing at me.  I can smell the Squirrel from his perch, which is quite a distance away.  The Man Man is fat with house and coiled around a nearby tree.  The Good Orange Sun... GRRRR!  What?  What was that?  What is happening to me?  I feel like... ROAR!  Where is my shirt?  Where are my underdressings?  If only Man Man had not eaten my mirror, I would make an observation of myself.  Wait...  What are the Feline Men doing?  How did they get up there?  Squirrel!  Look out!  This is... AHHHOOOOOOOHH!

This, as my animal, needs to be in a designated

place of me, which is my belly.  I have cooked

and eaten me, and I have assumed the

ignorance of Feline Man.  I have cracked the

little plastic container, and Africa is a dream

beneath the good orange sun.  God is with me,

and he is not a disagreeable fellow.  I am no 

longer positioned between my education and

my creative process, and the loneliness I feel

can be assimilated into a more precise action.

Posing?  Learning?  Reacting?  Not anymore!

I am free!

Man Man: SSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Feline Man: MEEEOWWW!

Man: BARK!  BARK!

 
                                               Flying above it all, I have seen many unusual 

                                               things.  Man is no longer Man.  Man Man is no 

                                               longer Man Man.  And Feline Man...  well, let's 
                                               just say I won't be landing any time soon.  I've 
                                               not been able to reach the walls of this cage,
                                               no matter how far I've flown in any direction,
                                               and I'm beginning to wonder what this might
                                               mean.  Am I now Man?  Is this now my domain?
                                               These animals below me sure are pretty, but
                                               I'm getting awfully hungry.  Perhaps I'll just
                                                    swoop down for a quick snatch of food.  Yes.