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Once,
before now and since then, nothing had formed. There was only
a tree, one very large tree, and many termites.
Where
termites have eaten there is left a mound of fine fermented
dust which shifts and sighs. Shifts and sighs and coalesces.
Rain sifts through the dust and the dust, enlivened, moans;
sun shimmers on an arching mist rising hot from the core of
the center of the mound. Mound like belly, is now belly, shapes
like breasts, are now breasts, steaming, fermenting, sighing
She sifts, shapes and murmurs, She murmurs and murmurs coalesce;
colors intensify; rainbow arches from deep in Her belly to
the heavens; Her cry is heard in seven tones as She births
a little sphere of gold. This She presses to her forehead,
She has a forehead now, and Her eyes, for now She has
eyes. It is the beginning, but it is only the beginning.
Maschine für Strassenmarkierung
Laughs
a little and Her thighs, touches Herself; still She
is alone and Her blood is on Her hands. She raises a slow
finger, paints a slick dark spiral on her spring green brow. Her thighs and the world spreads out and out and around
and She is laughing now atop a very large world which spreads
and spreads out from Herthighs. She starts a conversation
with and things become; one by one the world's speaks; the
wind speaks, the water speaks the lightning speaks, the forest
speaks the howling speaks, the whispers speak, the stars speak,
the fire speaks the ocean speaks, the snow speaks, the lava
speaks, the trees speak the animals speak, the deer, the rabbit,
the lion, the elephant, the goat, the cow, the cat, the horse,
the ant, the toad, the crow the mosquito the lizard the alligator
the horsefly the dragonfly the fly by night the night horse
and the sea horse, the seaweed the serpent the serpent the
serpent of the sea serpent, the seed the leaf the stem. The
plants speak the leaf the root the fruit.
One by
one. The clouds speak the rain the hail the joy. The day speaks
the rain the bow the arrow; the target and the tree, the fruit
of the tree and the wood of the tree; the little axe and the
hammer and anvil, and the bees, the bees in their nests in
the trees, the bees sitting pretty in their honey, the bees
singing songs that make the honey sweet, patiently tending
their nests and allowing honey to pour down the throats of
those they choose. And night in its turn, turns; she rests;
She is content. Dreams of the night horse teeth her big strong
teeth between her teeth the scent of broken apples..
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by Menoukha
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