Interviews that went well
You're never down.
Au contraire. When your grave is an invisible moving thing, up and down don't matter that much.
Au contraire. When your grave is an invisible moving thing with a mouth and no hurry to get anywhere, and your foot is in its teeth, you're crawling away, there's no time for saying anything, just the speed of that mouth, the sureness of that grip, the animal kick in your leg while it lasts, and the air hissing through your teeth, up and down don't matter that much.
Au contraire. The bite of the grave is something compared to the kiss that living did not quite conclude in. The ash that drops is the day that didn't make it in blue smoke to your mouth. The capacity of love to step forward and turn away is somebody's salvation, not yours.
I have a continent of au contraires in my head.
You think you're a personality
Some habits die hard. I learnt at home that being ordinary was cowardly, and lazy. Being less than ordinary is a kind of trying.
I tell myself that.
I have a better picture for you.
On a ledge not far from here sits what used to be a passion fruit a week ago. It is now a wrinkled fist. It doesn't smell of anything. It's shiny, and furrowed by slow collapse; it is love, waiting for an event. The mouth that should have tasted it is love. The vacant kiss of an empty flowerpot, and the mud that might cover it, is also love.
You're a has-been.
Send me a post-card from that address, please. I'd like to visit, since you think it's real.
You're a chuth.
Do you know how to be a question? Do you know why it's shaped to look like the opposite of a fish-hook?
You know what, fuck you.
I still find that funny.