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November 8th, 1998

Re: Houdini @ 01:38 am

From: exit2k@hotmail.com
Subject: Re: Houdini
Date: November 7, 1998 1:38:31 AM EST
To: afw10@columbia.edu, mrvisible@worldnet.att.net, sowinski@inetdirect.net, sejohnst@midway.uchicago.edu, shorning@willamette.edu, gbrennan@willamette.edu, emcgarry@willamette.edu, gdelling@willamette.edu, and 23 more…

if he rose
we were all sleeping
and it was a long, long time ago

there was a land
which must have been green
and soft and wide and not flat
and there must have been rivers.

(the rivers were green
and they were like faces spread across the hills.

i had almost forgotten when he came to me.)

there must have been sunlight when he rose
which he rose into, shining. He was big,
then, he was Huge. He came from the water's edge,
seeking life.

he was born an explorer.
he was a born explorer.
he was an explorer born.

He asked questions. there were people in the cities.
He was green.

He asked questions. there were not very many good mirrors.
He hadn't seen enough colors to be sure
where he was.

there was a family.
we've forgotten who. it wasn't important.

He was green. he sailed across the land
and forgot his feet in a cave somewhere.
they live underground still, and you can hear them
traveling across the nation, asking questions,

Have you seen him?
Have you heard his name?
They've all forgotten we were here.

Have you loved him too?

We belonged to him once.

he crosses the sky in a red chariot
drawn by fire. he calls to us below,
but not by name. we hear him and we thought He is singing.

he hasn't seen the ground in days. he is going
sun-blind in the too-high. it was a sad story
the way i told it. it was different then.

they build monuments to feet.
they hear him calling.
i'd grow roots, would that be blasphemy?
the trees are green.
the fires are yellow at the edges. orange is the color of insanity.
i've been singing, lately, to see how it feels.
i feel they would hang me if they knew.

he's like art. he's often misunderstood.
so many people are.

he came from the water.
he never saw the gills, the fins, the
translucent skin.

if he came closer
i know i'd see his blood moving.

How are you?
he never listens.
not in the sky. he's like God that way.
 
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