Monday, May 19, 2008
Gun Lips and the Vegetable Orchestra
The river is a gun.
The bank account sun sets inside the bullet wound,
red and safe,
the sister of the gun.
There are some directions where the fingers don’t point.
This feeling: landing and breathing.
Landing and breathing.
Gravity is thinking about the mountain,
licking its gun lips,
its handful of shadows.
A friend of ours was telling us about an information session that she attended about guns. She described seeing working cellphones that double as guns, little pink guns, Hello Kitty guns, tiny guns that held one or two bullets and other iPod-like miniaturized and cute horrors. Someone could go into a club and be searched. Security would see their working cellphone, having no idea that it contained a functional gun.
And, to end on something a bit less bleak, here's The Vegetable Orchestra. I heard of concert where they end by boiling up their instruments and making a soup of them with which they feed the audience.