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Degaussed Again
F.X. MacKenzie Bristol, on the edge a place neither here nor there A crossroads An in-between place Where compasses and other instruments of navigation Are useless I'm lingering after some event a movie, perhaps or a light show at the observatory (how unsettling it might be finding oneself on the wrong end of the telescope) I'm leaving with my sister but she's younger--a child while I'm still a creaky old freak of relativity we're supposed to meet with the authorities for a question-and-answer period but then I see Her The Museling (when did she become blond?) with a kid brother (when did she get him?) we Know, she and I, this magnetic connection this mnemonification gravitational disturbance realignment of the known universe I follow her home protesting siblings on the perimeter we talk as though she isn't a teenager as though I don't have arthritic joints (which have now been cured by some misunderstood miracle of physics as I regress to nineteen) she has an upstairs room where we wouldn't be heard if we were alone I learn her name pleased with myself for discovering her alias for this reality (first and last, and address to boot, and the name of her school stenciled on the front of her jersey) memorized until the chances of forgetting were surely infinitesimal and now it's gone all gone done in by another impossibility data sucked straight into my black hole of a brain Her mother comes in a different one, thank the gods introductions puzzlement consternation and harassment I've been reported I need to go need to go need to hurry, check the time evade the dream police too late apprehended interrogated demoralized and demagnetized Officer Snapdragon is unable to grasp the facts: I am a lifeless moon drifting aimlessly without Her presence to define the path of my orbit So help me Heisenberg I will find Her again pulled by the force of her electric impulsiveness Gravity will save me but I can't help wondering why was she blond? and what was her name? © Copyright 2005 by F.X. MacKenzie |