SWEET AND JUICY PINEAPPLE

“Sui,” Stringhetta called.
That was the first name of Mr. Oteh, if you don’t know

the man was looking at the desert around them
The place was rocky, but there was more than enough dirt for the winds to pick up

once in a while there would come a black storm
That could last for days and even weeks

“Sui,” Stringhetta called again
She was absolutely naked and beautiful

“there is going to be a storm.” Mr. Oteh said
“A big one.”

“I love storms.” Stringhetta said
“Even if that means staying inside for two weeks.”

“you could go back to the city, if you wanted to.” Mr. Oteh said
“But you’d have to leave right now.”

“nah!” Stringhetta exclaimed. She liked it there, in
The Electric desert

they lived in a massive stone building that used to be a
Temple, the so-called Reservoir temple

it was about thirty yards high, thirty meters, with only one funny door, and in the
Basement was a hole that lead to unknown deeps

“we could explore what’s
Down below.” Stringhetta said

“down there is cold and dangerous.” Mr. Oteh said, “Besides, I
can already tell you what’s down there.”

“what is down there?” Stringhetta asked
“A few spiders and the flies they feed on; the flies feed on the
Spiders’ shit.” Mr. Oteh said. “Nothing interesting there

further down, it’s full of things impossible to look at, and
further down, it’s monsters’ country, and we don’t want to go there

not even me.” said Mr. Oteh
“I’d like to see a few monsters or things impossible to look at.” Stringhetta said

“no way.” Mr. Oteh said with a sigh
“Hmm.” Stringhetta said

“this is so ordinary,” Mr. Oteh said. “There is dangerous hole, and
We shouldn’t go, but the idea of it got into your mind.”

“well,” said Stringhetta, “we live here.
Above them, those monsters.”

“yes, but you know why.” Mr. Oteh said
“I know why.” the young woman said

“pick a chair, and burn it.” Mr. Oteh said
“No, thank you. That is your trick.” Stringhetta said

the storm
Was gathering. . .

“you are milk, warm, and
Mixed with water, cold, from the spring.” Mr. Oteh said

–hmm, no, Stringhetta said
–Rose water for the traveler on a long journey

–no. NO! But please try again, Stringhetta said with a smile
–You are a nail

brand new, that just fell off a kind of truckaplane
You fell down to the ground, in the grass, among pretty flowers

–the nail is new? Stringhetta asked
No rust on it?

–not a speck, not yet, Mr. Oteh said
–You found it. You stepped on it. Your foot bleeds. Now what do you do?

-I lick the wound, and I keep the nail to etch some short poems
On an old stone

–you are the old stone: Mr. Feldspath!
–Thank you.” Mr. Oteh said

“we should go fishing them red flying trouts .” he said
“We have about an hour.”

“nah!” the young woman said
“Do
you
like
this?” she asked, showing off her

“yes, very much.” Mr. Oteh said
“Imagine…” Stringhetta said

“imagine I wrote something by removing words from a sentence
Instead of building new sentences, she said

–you could scrape off words from the pages of an existing
Text, Mr. Oteh said

–it’s been done before
–Have you considered trying it yourself?

–I did that to a Bible until there was only one word left
–And that word was?

–blood
–Really?

–no, but that’s the word I picked at random as I was considering it
–You picked the word “blood” at random in the Bible?

–no, in the Oxford Advanced Learner’s dictionary
–So what is blood?” Mr. Oteh asked

“your life.” Stringhetta answered. “A sort of holy plane for your
Soul.

–we have no soul, but your mind is a spring, Mr. Oteh said
–I am your soul, but you are a sweet and juicy pineapple growing in the desert

–wow! look at this black cloud coming over here
–I wonder why there is never a spherical cloud.” Stringhetta said

“in your mind, there is.” Mr. Oteh said
“Tell me,” Stringhetta said, “where does outside yourself begins?

where does outside yourself
Begins?

outside your skin?
Your flesh?

is your inside
Not outside of something else

outside of me, for instance
Or is that only another illusion

what if I could show you that inside yourself is nothing different
Than inside a pebble, inside a stone. Feldspath!

–what of our thoughts? Mr. Oteh asked
–Mere stuff that bumps into itself over and over

like a fly
Can not see a pane of glass

like a bird
Can hear is own singing

–we should get a nightingale or two, Mr. Oteh said
–Why not a few common snipes and a mini swamp?

–that would look great in the middle of the desert
–A desert now, a jungle tomorrow

–not here, not this one, not this desert, said Mr. Oteh
–When a flower asks: “What is a flower?” it asks that question with its
Flower body, and the answer comes in the shape of more flowers

–what is a word?
–You need words to define what words are

–and thoughts to think of thoughts, Mr. Oteh said
–And a universe to find out what it’s good for

–and you need clothes to protect you from the sun
–Unless you are an imaginary person living under an imaginary sun

–now let’s go inside and close that funny door.” Mr. Oteh said
“Yes, indeed, Mr. Feldspath.” Stringhetta said

later came the storm, and it was
Slow

::: ::: :::

[Picture: Mr. Oteh and Stringhetta by reading_is_dangerous]

Note to myself: Tell more about the door.