I am the same as another person. There are certain circumstances I find myself in. My friends think so too. Frank or anyone does.
I have been going into another room. Coves and console brackets on the bed of the ceiling remind us many monarchs lived here.
There is not too much, fortunately, to describe. They said I found domestic life, that I eat food. I know the outcome. I am the beloved of Frank. Eventually this became a curious change Frank and I regarded highly, even if the log jumped out of the fireplace and burnt the rug in the daytime, I mean really.
Something else happened which created strong force.
I have been given the task of sweeping away my neighborhood.
I asked them to remove those little pieces of something so I could live somewhere. I like to be there, have big gardens, smaller gardens, a small unknotted garden. On Grain Street, I should ask them to remove those little pieces of something so I could live there. My description of the world is similar to Ed’s. I have thought so. I know this idea I have is true, not false.
When I was asked to make a terrible mistake, I said I would not.
Bill
Of course, the ideal way to have enjoyed Bill is to have done it long ago, thoroughly. Bill was sexually mature even then. At one time Bill could be enjoyed regularly, but now sadly, no more.
Other people I know should be more like Bill. Oh, good, oh good. I can be more Bill-like than I have been. Let me tell you, don’t you know I am in a position to try to understand Bill. I think he should not be wrong! Bill should be right!
I saw him!
Naturally I asked myself to remember remarks of dear Bill which seem unusual.
There are some who know what is true because they have only Bill’s opinions. They settle down easily to new work, to new surroundings. These are very sensual people, extremely so!—they eat, drink, sleep.
Between ten and two I was between Bill’s bookcase and his table.
“Sure. Sure. Yes, well, then, good-bye,” Bill said. Before I get all upset, let me find out if Bill has really become a person who would go for a stroll.
Red Rose
Her fur neck seemed to me to be on top of her head, its color ordinary. She must have seen my neck.
Let me see what I said.
I’ll have to get out, get my astonishment, and get back in here with my goggles on.
I think I do not like her genitals any more. I see hers. Under the water, it did not occur to me what she might have thought of mine. This will not be an isolated incident.
Here, again, animals, vegetables, and minerals are under or over—wedged. My body I show as a striking sword and people scold me for this.
“No! No! Don’t!” she said.
She was permitted to correct me.
“If you want to, you can,” I had said.
I think she should have her head and she should be authorized to wear a necklace.
My Coat
As I did before, instead of only just trying to, I tied my coat sleeves together around my waist so I was buoyed. It is less tricky not to be buoyed. I am not worried now or then, overly concerned now, troubled, bothered by my effort.
My feet are where I put them when it was too late. Bernie apologized because it was his fault. I was not supposed to show up until eleven o’clock or much earlier. I have apparently excessively walked in before I finished.
Tony
Tony’s children are pretty fancy, good for everybody. These are cleverly pointy offspring I wished Tony could have because I want what’s best for Tony.
They all like that word for.
I spent the weekend with Sally. I don’t want to smooth out the edges of life by telling you how I feel about Sally.
I am not going to tell all of my enemies. I am not going to tell you—my maker, or repeatedly pester you.
May I please have a bronze flower vessel, a vase with tiger handles, edged weapons, a fine goblet and cover, a blue and white underglaze painted dish. May I please rape you?
An Inventory
She was a tree like that, a pot like that, a pan like that. I was wearing a hat like that, a wig like that.
She was becoming more earthly as I turned. I have never had any complaints about her. Do you want her?
“No,” you say?
Take her, I say.
“No,” you still say?
Certain other people think you must. You are making the biggest mistake of your life. She is Norwegian enough, more of an inhabitant than I thought she was. When they were holding her, she looked fatigued in the field of thought. It is an impression I have of her that is not flexible enough to be spread completely out.
I Freshly Fleshly
His block is washed clean and covered with new paper because he says one area of the block has the scent of a fish market. Because his shop window is open I have left his shop door open even wider.
Freshness and quality are just as important in people. He has a long neck and mouth, a neat fillet between foot and body, flat shoulders, and a stepped foot.
I tug on myself and cry out as if making quite an effort.
He is the only one I did that with.
“They can see us!” He leans.
“They can’t see us,” I say.
“They can see us!” he says.
A number of people asked him for German bologna—an item he seldom will sell. We were rushed to the point when a woman requested half a ham. In general the customers are not too concerned. She took what she ordered and she vowed she would never return.
A man came in and after that I went home. I came home at 3:00 p.m. When I started seven years ago I was a very shy person. I don’t think anyone would guess it now. The ability to meet people and to talk to anyone will be an asset all of my life. I have learned a lot about people and I have made some great friends.
Great Deed
Far off he saw his peril—that is, a friend—and she waved. So he went to her and he took her and you know it is dark. The last lantern had been put out. Have you ever?—hold this.
She intercedeth. She was lying down you know the way a woman would. Do you see what I see? She was slipping from one side to the other side. I think of her.
Finally, he said, “I can’t stand this any more.” He got very sick from that. He had to go to the hospital for a long time. Everybody prayed. Everybody was shaking and crying.
Every night for twenty years thereafter, stones slipped down over the rooftops and that’s noisy. Finally he said, “I can’t stand this any more.”
Everybody was shaking. He said, “Everybody pray!” Everybody prayed. The stones stopped slipping down over rooftops. He got very sick from that. Oh, he was very sick. A lot of them had to go to the hospital. He had to go to the hospital again for a long time.
They did not have—the heat was more horrid heat than our heat. The sleep, dear guest, was sleep. Dear guest, your request not to be disturbed has been acknowledged.
Tureen
This is for me to say since the old times.
We can come in out from our history to lie down. I keep rolling their limbs between my hands, tap these gently against a hard surface, tap you against my arm, roll you lightly between my hands, break you the desired number of times. Right? Right? Right? Wrong.
On the basis of your outward appearance I may wish to vary you, to adapt you to my preferences.
You cannot be blamed, although at the end of March you spent time with my enemy.
You are not going to say any of this. Good. I am glad you are not, that I am. How long will it rain? Okay. How long will I live? Okay. Don’t have any difficulties, okay?
No, I won’t tell them anything about you. I won’t. You don’t tell them anything about me.
I am sorry I am dangerous, th
at I usually do and I say the wrong thing and grow old. I should not. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Peter said, “It is better to make this move quickly.”
Go up the stairs and you have gone quite beyond me. My room’s on the first floor. This is one of the oldest human crafts—dashing on through it, being pushed through into a thing.
Wrong Hell
“Take my plate!” I said.
“No!” he said, “Not yet! Do you want these? Have you any interest in these?” he said.
They were dished up, compressed, difficult to crumble, much like any child.
“Did I do wrong?” I said.
“You did wrong,” he said. “Don’t cry,” he said. “Don’t put that there,” said he. “Is it asking too much?”
“Sorry, take my plate! I am so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t cry,” he said. “Do you want these? Have you any interest in these?” he said. The melon and the figs.
I rubbed a napkin over my hands. That is to say it’s the finish of a meal even if only just a little more bleating is required. In my private act, I depend on the ending for my simpler, better, and richer act. It’s not good enough, toying with figs, even if they’re indispensable to enthusiasts.
“Is the salad good enough?” who says.
“Yes, yes. Ye-es. You remember? That’s amazing, that last time it wasn’t.”
“Ye-es.”
“That’s remarkable that you remember.”
“I remember.”
“That was so long ago. She remembers!”
The Underwear
That will be prim of you if you wear something if you have to not be home.
I tell my friends who could be similar to you—wiry arms, nipples which are not similar to mine—I am hankering to see you and I will sort of die if you do not come on over here. Hi, how are you? We need to take care of next week.
It is a trick to speak as if you would hear me. I am silken nowhere, here, by the water, by the sea, by the fleshy, thin, almost leathery bump.
The Penis Had Been
Plenty Decent
The food broker, the housepainter, the swimmer and the husband’s friend had liked the husband’s penis very much.
The husband’s penis had been plenty decent.
The wife would have walked around with the penis inside of her if that had been possible.
The husband was dead, the husband who had not been dead for very long.
The grieving wife goes to bed too late and she awakens too early and she eats a girls’ party salad in the morning. She speaks about people who should receive money.
She tells people, “We have a lot to discuss.”
She mourns the husband. She ties a mortifying scarf around her waist which had been the husband’s own. She wears his unmerciful nightshirt. She wears the frown which had once belonged to her husband’s mother.
Then she clumsily prepares a miracle.
The Brilliants
The sky might not have been too disorganized for them. The clouds were innately ornate. There were too many clouds.
The man was elated by the abundance of decorative clouds, by their prominence.
The man picked up off of the ground scraps of anything from trees. On that particular day, the woman had forgotten her purpose.
Yet on another day, the woman had been the one to clean up. She vacuumed. She washed. She sponged the surface of a bottle of mineral water. She rinsed the nail parings down the drain. The sink was wetted with greasy water, leftover water, yellow water, white watery water, water which is not transparent water. This is water.
The water has only been appreciated since the beginning of last week, after the discovery of the patches of iridescence in it.
The water is somewhat rare, has a slight turbidity. The value of water is fairly low, has a very low value, the lowest.
The woman and the man are of modest value.
One method is used to determine their value—mine.
Pairs of people have a relatively unimportant vitreous luster. They command sympathy, have heart attacks, weeping spells. They grow suspicious.
A man alone in the natural world is tidy.
Yellower
The house looks younger and yellower and yellower. The dog appears larger and proud. The house is much skinnier.
The dweller looked smaller and humble and smaller. Her husband looks fatter.
Everything is fine, but not much greener. On Friday her husband will do anything if its characteristics are not insisted upon.
Large Organization
Malus held a dog who tongued her hand as Caladium told her what she should not do. If she did that, Caladium said, he would not think she was a special person any more.
The dog wore a condom.
“That is not to say,” Caladium had said, “that every time you give a tour it’s a poor idea, or that your tours are harmful. I am saying that when you think, Let me give a tour, let me introduce myself so I can talk to you—don’t do that. Don’t. It would be better for you if someone came up from behind you and pushed you into an automobile or truth.”
They didn’t like my listening—so I walked along the sweep and I heard a boom crane.
In the sweep, another dog grew bold. This dog played beautifully with a boy.
The dog dragged down its haunches and produced an object about the same size and shape as the boy’s phallus.
Now I can understand the difference between “systems.” I can understand the normal sequence of events—even simplified information I can understand, and which hairstyle I get. The question always becomes for me—who becomes my friend?
Cake
I am four feet long. I am no bigger than a dust mop. I won’t bite you. That is something Tom would say. Tom would want to blurt it out.
When I got here, I said to myself, “I hope he’s here.”
He fed me cake which is particularly bulky, medium to large, covered with rigmarole, quality good, pleasant, striped with carmine.
He is medium, pleasant.
He cleans stains from the two quart aluminum saucepan. He does not show undue concern.
He is as beautifully browned as the beautiful girls in fancy bakeries.
So many times he was heard to say, “I wouldn’t mind being here if I only knew I was supposed to.”
I am comfortable at a table or desk, eating.
The table is by the window. This is not a nightmare view of life.
I was filled up. I was bubbling one day. I am changing. I am changing. I am different!
I want to gratify my little cock, but I do not want to be thick. I do not want to thicken up the way Diane Williams did. I talked to her. She said the services are not as good. Well, she said, they are still as good, but you have to ask for them. It used to be you didn’t have to ask.
Actually, he stood by me while I was bathed. The flattened hollow of my back is where there is a spot to brush the edge of.
I eat cheese on toast most mornings. What would Diane Williams think about me? What?
I’ll find out all about it at dinner and then I may change my mind about my life.
What a triumph to have food placed before me for me, so long as you and I meet.
Arm
My favorites among my limbs and my many patches of skin—anything he asks for that belongs to him—I want to keep those. A nice bright unsealed box of his he did not, in fact, give me, I want.
I could not relieve myself of an entire region, please! I want to keep those.
There is a nice naturalness of his I’ll keep. His seriousness of purpose which he advances, I want.
I am so tired, though, of a nice bright sensation.
Back it goes to him!
My patience is his.
Seven Slightly Smaller Ones
Her future will have been brought to a sad end if it is not incessantly, daily decorated.
The Williams woman opened the gift from me. The immoral wrapping paper lay on her leg.
“Oh, please and thank you!” she said.
“You are loved,” I say. “Would you like to play a game of checkers or of chess?”
“Oh! I am very tired. I am just too tired. I am waiting for my boys and then I am going upstairs.”
She wears several small jewels and lesser chains, a waist buckle, shoe buckles, and an arrow brooch.
When a big jewel was handed over to the woman, I said, “Do you really like it? Do you really like it? No, I really mean it. Do you really like it? Tell me how much you like it.”
She said, “I cannot remember.”
So said, so seen. I will tell you I was an elder clothed and fed.
I would like to go to that store to get gemstones for her to wear with that gemstone, something with a crystal! When was the last time I knew what was best for someone?
Most nights I never knew if I was going to give her a thrum or a finger ring.
A Woman’s Fate
This suggests that exposure to her may have been difficult, that an animal became sluggish instantly in her vicinity and dragged its tail along the paving. I am terribly sorry because this was a creature destined for a habit of vigorous walking, who is restrained from too much activity. I do not want to make a joke of this. Every animal I know is extremely sad or a little sad.
The Collected Stories of Diane Williams Page 18