A Genome Project of the Page

Posted on January 31, 2005 in Prose Arcana

Not everything that comes to the page is breeding stock. Words arrive, but they have had vasectomies or hysterectomies. I ask them what they have to say, but they are heavy smokers and their tracheotomies prevent them from speaking like a friend I had once who had to put his hand over the hole in his throat to talk. The words that come have no hands, so they can’t address me. This genome project of the page doesn’t reproduce very well, consequently. As I write this, people chatter around me. Their words come in sentences. Lots of words pour from fecund lips. Me running away from all that language. How fortunate they are to have syllables worth the dance on their tongues!