sometimes while washing his face applying
Nivea after shaving sun lotion to thwart skin cancer(it ran in the family)
or
washing his hair giving it a real good scrubbing he halts as if commanded he recognises becomes fascinated that beneath
his hands and skin are his bones and fascinated he fixates on what his skull would look
like without him
without him
in
the shower it was worse
when people shower alone they have a
tendency to ruminate unlike if they were elsewhere by themselves
perhaps a gift of the running water(amniotic)
cleansing shedding filth unobstructed they
revel slip consciousness
go hard hypnagogic
showering
one day in particular
he found realised as he absently gargled
water from the showerhead he was also muttering over and over again under its cool
spray maybe mihi quaestio factus sum maybe mihi quaestio factus sum maybe mihi
quaestio factus sum which he learned read in St. Augustines Confessions he muttered
as others might sing songs with catchy refrains out loud or scatted to music
pealing in their heads which none of them could get away with anywhere in
public without being conspicuous or drawing attention and whaddafuck stares as if they
violated or broached some kind of social etiquette in being themselves to their very
depth
to him it seemed showers were critical
facilitator
and while maybe mihi quaestio factus
sum ran out of his mouth with the showerwater he was imagining himself clasping
his head with both hands digging his nails into his scalp yanking pulling
tearing his skin renting it and with one more strenuous mad dog rip
he tore it down either side of his head over his ears his scalp and hair deafening
him while warm rivulets of blood sluiced over his face his fluttering eyelashes
down the back of his neck he imagined it diluted pink at his throat and shoulders in
the hollows catches of his clavicles his skull revealed gleaming white though
knowing it wouldnt having seen too many skulls of animals as he dressed them(he wasnt going to get that past himself) his simian ridge prominent the
knobs at either side near the back of his head feeling them had convinced
him as a babe he was dehorned by the doctor who used an electric dehorner as cowboys
did on cattle ranches his hide smouldering
his buds burnt and scraped away not that hed bitch because the doctor didnt toss him over onto his back yank his legs wide apart pinch pull at the skin of his scrotum slice it away with a jackknife then work his testicles out one at a time drag the blade down his spermatic cord severing it a feathered wound which healed quicker than a clean crosscut then swabbed with antiseptic and swaddled
his buds burnt and scraped away not that hed bitch because the doctor didnt toss him over onto his back yank his legs wide apart pinch pull at the skin of his scrotum slice it away with a jackknife then work his testicles out one at a time drag the blade down his spermatic cord severing it a feathered wound which healed quicker than a clean crosscut then swabbed with antiseptic and swaddled
maybe mihi quaestio factus sum
maybe I have become a problem to myself
432/1632, Saturday,
21 11. 15
123/1323, Sunday,
22 (52nd anniversary of President Kennedys assassination) 11. 15
