Thursday, April 22, 2010

blood on your face

in your dress with the pockets. hands in your pockets. nothing in your pockets. there's blood on your face.

where are your shoes? my favourite shoes. you don't have any shoes. are those dried tears on your cheeks?

your mascara has run, why didn't you run? you tried to run. there's dirt in your hair.

your purse has gone. your necklace has gone. the darkness has gone. it's still in your mind.

come closer to me. get warmer with me. come home with me. i will make you some eggs.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

your name is flower

colony collapse disorder

my love for you is a thousand million bees. swarming bees dancing on the flowers, sperming honey into jars, and stinging children in their faces. buzzing bees that hum along to peter bjorn and john.

but the bees are dying. they wander off to god knows where. they get drunk and they die. they implode and explode and disintegrate into thin air. they spontaneously combust. entire colonies are collapsing in the bathrooms at work. they are having epileptic fits in front of the TV and their friends are putting spoons in their mouths but it doesn't seem to help. and the few bees that do survive are left riddled with disease, suffering from a tremendous and unexplainable pathogen load. and their feet stink.

the scientists don't understand. they don't know why the bees are disappearing. maybe all these cell phones are emitting radioactive bee waves. or maybe some crazy girl bees are lacing all the bee food with rat poison. theories. hillary clinton has heard about it, too. she wants to know what is going on but nobody can figure it out. all we know is the bees are dying and soon our entire ecosystem will crumble. you'd be surprised how useful bees are. we need them to pollinate all kinds of different foods like apples or almonds or beef strogonoff. it's called entomophily and without it we will all cease to exist.

maybe something can be done, but honestly, at this point, i think we should just start seeing other people.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

menstruating robots with beards

rani's father reads the wall street journal. on the toilet on the train, he retains all that business in his brain. currencies and stocks and thousand dollar shoes with silk lined socks.

but unlike the other wall street sluts and cocks, rani's dad gets rich when there's a decline in the value of his assets; makes his money shorting futures. maybe that's why he sews up rani's vagina when she's 12. and why he laughs at 14 when the blood seeps through her sutures.

rani doesn't understand, of course, why anyone would want her to be less. want her to wear her dead mother's dirty old dress. why her life like her hair is always a mess. but she goes on like any kid does. aware of the chaos and ignoring the buzz of the blow flies who lay maggots in her ears and in her eyes. avoiding her reflection is the only direction she knows. and so it goes.

until her sixteenth birthday when rani happens to meet her father's protégé. at a party for her there's no one rani's age except for the go-go dancer who's stripping in a cage. the protégé's name is dave. he talks to her about nanotechnology and she says "robots?" and he says "no, nanotechnology is the engineering of functional systems on a molecular scale. it's where the next boom will be. where the money will be made. your father disagrees of course. so does the journal."

dave's appearance is frozen in 1991. mustard color suit, hair in a fade, but rani likes what she sees and she wants him to be pleased so she tries to understand. "tiny robots?"

"kind of," says dave.

that night in bed rani fingers her stitches as she pretends to talk to dave on the phone. hello oh hi let me suck on your bone but the dream is shortlived when her father opens the door and laughs in her face. she's been put back into her place. her mind has been raped.

still, rani's a smart girl and determined to escape. she e-mails dave and they go on a date. they kiss and their love is intense and that nanotechnology starts to make sense. in the months to come when the stitches are gone dave starts talking about a bioengineering degree at the university of bonn. dave sits on the bed and combs rani's hair. rani looks at him in the mirror. she looks at herself.

"I don't want to go," she says.

but dave sets her free.

"go and come back and you will see. you and me will always be."

so at 18 rani's bags are packed. without telling her father she sneaks out the back.

in germany everything begins to click. she re-engineers human cells and implants them in robots. she's figured a way to give an android a dick. a robot a beard and periods and hair. testosterone and estrogen. now she can rest again because this ingenious use of nanotechnology has made her rich. robots having babies. baldies getting nanobots implanted under their scalps. the practical applications are almost infinite.

finally saved, she flies back to new york and is reunited with dave. he is proud of her. "how's my father?" asks rani.

"broke," says dave. he shorted nanotech.
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