Sunday 25 January 2009

Wix Fragmentary adoration of the

Dyin was a crime, a melting ice cream cone on a pink unicorn horn. She rode a golden british side saddle in France. Art installers were coming to her home today,the same day her children were boarding a plane for Barcelona. They scampered trying not to forget various items of importance.
Tastes of oysters and the dry rot of driftwood in her home. A husband made of crawfish mud castles. Under the sunshine bridge, demons ripped horrible tunes on the burnt stretched intestines of alligators. Critical mass in her basement. The water from last season that everyone treasured, was not fermenting properly. It reeked through her slits,the walls rippled.
Dyin's eyes big and empty brown looked as if they did not know what had made her and waited,until one day a god-like rich man would tell her who had made her.
The doorbell rang. She imagined a man shaped like a Bull, fine hair over scaled muscles. His pressed shirt shining white. He would say, "I will tell thee."
She blinked several times and shifted her head,a pair of hands pressing her body flat straight down its length.
She opened the door. A Prodigy Child smiled next to the Ancient Words. The Ancient Words shuffled and eyed her breasts in an ambiguous crazy aloof way. Excusable because of his cultural merit and obvious intelligence, Ancient's words shuffled through depths of options and it quaked thru his walrus-like flesh. Text dribbled over the surface of his skin like lice.
The Prodigy Child stammered and stepped forward a bit. "Hi, I'm here with Ancient,my name is...."
"Ancient, darling." Dyin pulled the door and thru an arm,a purple substance stained the air and seemed magnetized, unable to resist the desire to smear the face of a massive acrylic nightmare. A 4'x8 image of flowers scratched in mostly primary colors. Ancient gave it an eye and hid a cringe. He could actually hear the paints crying in pain. His words smiled and jumped on his face for Dyin.
"Do come in, please mind your step. The Art installers will be here shortly." Dyin stomped ahead over the slippery silver drop sheets. "It's a shame that Nebuchednezzer herself couldn't be here."
Ancient muttered something that even Prodigy Child next to him could not hear. Prodigy Child decided to give him space to walk and talk to her so he swam up to the ceiling to inspect a piece he recognized from 1980's Atlantis.
Dyin may have had the track record of an unsavory woman,without any actual taste of her own,but in her day,her grandfather had helped her make some nice and interesting purchases.
"Those survived the sinking." Dyin was looking from a candle lit marbelized corner of her foyer some twenty feet down below Prodigy Child.
"What?" Prodigy Child looked to Ancient,but he was fidgeting with something in one of his coat pockets while staring elsewhere - at what appeared to be nothing.
Letters in italicized typefaces were running in a muddy puddle around his feet, lamprey looking little creatures consumed the letters,to later staple them to their scrapbooks.
Dyin looked at her wristwatch,mortified to keep Ancient waiting. She actually feared conversation regarding the pieces being delivered. She only wanted one and had built up considerable anticipation. Her husband was not there and she knew, she just knew that whatever she chose would be wrong.
The night before Dyin had been out at the openings. Making her rounds. The one place, whose name she always forgot,had The Wix Experiment taking place. She was carrying seven of Wix's unborn offspring presently. Her husband loved Wix's installations,even though one could not acquire such a thing. She often wondered at the value of such a temporary experience.
"Look at this" She said proudly. She held a strange little box out to Ancient. He jumped, startled from some random thought and looked down at the curious object in her hand. Ancient gave her a squint and looked her face over then back to the object.
"It's an Engine..one of Wix's designs."
Ancient knew better. He gently took the box from her naive long wrinkled fingers.

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