GEORGE COSTANZA
2. My eyes are the mothers of dimes and raccoons: I spot both prodigals without the use of corrective lenses. Blind men place their trust within me and when they take hold of my elbow I carry them out into the street.
3. If I treat my body like an amusement park smoke appears and I am led to clear a path through clowns and women. It is no simple task to live with myself. I sense myself tiring of this vessel. I sense myself shifting and swelling within this place.
4. My love she named Risotto and as portioned it never satisfies. My outfit I named Morning Mist and to the subtle observer I am a dense forest of bland fabrics and neutral weaves.
5. I unlock my jaws extending my face parallel to the earth. This is what my body looks like before I vomit a balloon. This is what my body looks like before I take a vacation from myself.
6. I dream of sex with a giant. In my dream the giant keeps asking for a cafeteria sandwich. I notice the giant begins to resemble a giant doll, and then a giant doll resembling my mother. I begin to cry. My giant doll mother opens her giant doll mouth and releases a small procession of wild dogs.
7. When I take a vacation from myself I grow a mustache and go by the name Arturo. I pretend to be an out-of-work porn star. I decide to visit Holland but instead become confused and visit the Netherlands.
8.This is what my body looks like before my ass is sewn to my face.
9. My hands were dipped in gold and I made a home for them inside of a balloon filled with light and diamonds. I made a list of everything I had made a home for: a skull for my brain, a plastic thing for my comb, a wallet for my money. A boy drifted by in a bubble and he named me Motherfucker.
10. I am the architect. I am the creator of a latex empire. I am the lifter lifting from my mouth the brightly colored balloons. I am the marine biologist. I am the healer of choking whales. Giant twisting masses coughing on the shore. I am the extractor of obstrusions.
11. And sometimes I find myself standing in the sky with a cluster of balloons blooming from my open mouth. I grip a small cloud in my right hand until it cries black rain. It is in these moments that I contemplate the essence of my work.
12. The essence of my work is that of cutting my own seed from out of the belly of the earth. It is of splitting myself into two small projections of something I would call a house and something I would call a relationship. And there is a space in my mouth in which to do so. There is a space in my mouth in which to tie balloon strings around my teeth. And I have found that walking with your face parallel to the ground does exactly everything it takes to make you believe that people are walking on the ceiling.
Labels: stories
3 Comments:
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I will try the ceiling trick tomorrow as I walk to my appointment in my suit and tie. I will speak loudly, repeatedly stating, "this is only an experiment!".
thanks israel!
I appreciate your stories. I would like to buy another cd soon. will you please hurry and make another one?.
may your skills continue to flourish, you rock my friend.
I find sukh stories interesting and pleasurable. Where are yeur newer and more recent yones?
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