Joke

In other words forgetting is a letting
go of the individuality that keeps us
distinct from what doesn’t remember
anything to begin with. To begin with.
So then it's a step toward death, when we
as ourselves become undone. You lost me.
We need the mother and need her to
need us. Need her to need us to need
her. No. Yes. And all the anxiety we feel,
no matter what we feel we feel it about,
is about her having let go, go of us, right,
and the trying to remember where things
begin, anything, is the gripping. Bingo.
We’re trying to, to just, just to be alive.
What’s wrong with that? Nothing. Going 
back to keep track of where each thing
or memory comes from or where it goes
will hold you back. Back from what is 
what my question is. Letting yourself not know
is the beginning of what death’ll be. Bullshit.
That’s capable negativity, my man, face it.
So I don’t want to be dead but I will be.
Obviously. You’re saying in a way we’re 
already dead. Or are we dead inside 
ourselves, in which case why not wait? 
Or is the dead inside us alive in some way?  
Is that a multiple choice? Is that supposed 
to be a joke? So what did you start to say 
about the mother? Now you want to know. 
Why am I terrified if it’s all fine? That's not 
what you said before. That’s what I’m saying 
now, and I’m asking you for an answer for real. 
You really should just listen to yourself sometimes.

Mark Dow | Feedback
Contents | Mudlark No. 59 (2015)