Baby In Hell
How do you know that what you dream of is not real?
All those neurons firing in the twisted deep dark of the skull's vault
are doing something, after all.
Snap, crackle, pop.
Now you see me, now you don't...
*
posted by tearful dishwasher at 9:36 AM
19 Comments:
How do you know what is real is not a dream?
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This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Laurel-
It's a real dream and a real nightmare.
Both awake and asleep. Dead and alive.
I don't know how we are supposed to make room
for the dead girls among us, except to realize that
this specific example is repeated endlessly and daily
and for as long as there have been human beings
she will keep getting tied to the chair and beaten
until she's dead.
And we will keep witnessing.
I suppose that we each play all three roles as well.
The dead girl, the wicked step-father, the witness.
And the wheel turns again....
I saw this and I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Because, maybe, of the absurdity of it all, or maybe the fact that I was raised a Catholic if you were an unbaptised Catholic baby (or any other kind of baby, you went to a place similar to hell but not hell, it was limbo, not as in do the limbo but a place where you floated around and couldn't say hi to Jesus.
I saw this little armadillo guy and immediately thought that's how babies in limbo look! So there it is. The Loudon pov.
xor
Rebecca-
Well, I laughed my ass off right back atcha. Where would
we be without the Loudon POV? Loudnonless, I guess.
Thanks. I'm so glad you keep hanging around here.
yrs-
Scott
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apologies for the delete: partial explanation follows: after eons of deliberation, the powers that be within the catholic hierarchy have determined there is no such a thing as a limbo, thereby freeing zillions of unbaptized babies from doing the limbo. i had found a great pic of a limbo baby in her diaper, inching her way under a limbo broom placed across two kitchen chairs, but the thing was copyrighted by some zealous catholic who wanted to suppress any further thought of the limbo altogether. And I just wanted to say that every Saturday night there is a limbo contest and fishfry down at the Free Will Baptist Church of God Jesus, children of all faiths welcome, free huggies provided.
What I dream of is real.
*snork*
Jim-
Save a spot for me in the back. And bring yr flask.
I love to watch babies limbo while I'm chomping
on catfish and listening to a good fire and brimstone
lesson from the pastor.
Lynn-
I think most municipalities have laws against it, though.
Rebecca-
Wipe up yr milk goddamit. You sprayed it all over the
good tablecloth.
love and kisses-
tearful
My great-great-grandfather used to swerve his truck into the ditch whenever he passed the local cemetery and tell his terrified grandchildren that he was "running over all the Cath'lic babies" who were buried, you know, just outside of holy ground.
I've seen your posts on others' blogs for many months, but never paid you a visit, until now, for I saw your profile in Mannequin. Let me just say, sir, that you have my attention. Your story is interesting, but your images are (thinks - don't be bombastic), well, like glowing fragments of clay removed from the kiln. Searing.
One of my workshop students last night mentioned your art in Mannequin. I pretended like we were really good friends and that you sometimes come over and mow my lawn. Please don't mess this up. They're new students and they pay me real money to read their poems!
xor
p.s. I meant to say she raved about your artand because of your art, she wants to submit work to Mannequin. Me too. And she's a coyote. I mean her last name is Coyote. My life is really filled with animals.
p.p.s. I started a drawing tonight (I have no heat in my house and therefore can't paint, too cold, the paints won't move, grrr) with floating babies in it, zillions of them and some of them have tails. Plus, I get the whole weekend off. Whatever that has to do with anything. I'm going back into my fort.
xor
David-
Thanks so much for your kind words. I wish you luck
in finding a patron. Cool way to try to find a way to do what you want. Anyway, feel free to hang around as much as you'd like. Glad to have you.
Rebecca-
You know its been hell trying to mow your lawn with all this rain...although I'm working on a boat/lawnmower variant, kinda like the seaweed harvesters they use in front of our nuclear power plant to keep the kelp out of the intakes.
Enjoy yr weekend.
I took a long walk along the cliffs at Lone Palm today, wild and desolate, with a ++ high tide so the waves were crashing against the cliff base and tossing spray up onto the path. The cormorants were hanging their laundry out to dry in the intermittent blasts of sunshine...it was breathtaking. You would have liked it.
yrs-
tearful
Wow, this blog is so cool. I've been running a little dry on new blog sites for a while...I was beginning to think there wasn't much out there, but this stuff is great. I found you via laurel (also great) and have promptly added you both to my favorites.
The cormorants break my heart, and yes, that's exactly what they look like. High tide for me, salt everywhere, or low tide, walking in the tidal mudflats, I love it all. That's why I'll never move.
Day 27 of rain and no end in sight. My neighbors behind my house are fighting. Everyone is edgy. I'm hiding in bed. It's really not a bad idea.
Good call on the mower/boat hybrid.
xor
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