Tuesday, June 25, 2013

a novel medium


& that was when i stopped swatting at them. & whenever a mosquito lands on me i observe & wait patiently to be punctured & leeched & watch it bloat up & flit towards stagnant wet places to make more mosquitos. & THAT will be my legacy, millions of mosquitoes, my mosquitos, that live because i chose so. my oeuvre obscura. no more talk of audiences. my work will seek you out & you will be stung & it will be an extension of my will & you will be stung over & over & over again. this is my contribution. a buzzing ring in your ear in the dark & a welt on your ass & disease & disease & the promise of more to come. more trenchant & expedient than any worthless words & you're welcome.

6 comments:

  1. You're shooting too low. Transmit diseases using them.

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    Replies
    1. If I were a person intelligent or talented enough to engineer a plague, I wouldn't have to resort to mosquitoes to begin with.

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  2. Replies
    1. Possibly. There was a thunderstorm and the air was heavy and full of mosquitoes and I was in a bad mood.

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