The dean is concerned. I'm failing all my courses. I showed up dressed properly. With a white shirt, pressed. Pressed. Preeeessssseeedddd. I imagine a very smooth hot iron just steaming and beautifying my crisp white shirt. Erasing wrinkles into a blanched colour of ripening orchids or pale, blooming garden roses. Sun beaten. Sun Sun sun Beaten. Sun beaten. A song, a rhythm.
Knotted hydrangea no more.
Hydrangea. Heartless. Hecate. Hydrangea means heartless. Yes, it does. HHHH
H h H H H h H HH HHHHH h h h h HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I imagine a beautiful wall made all of H's. See the beautiful cuts in the wall. A wall around the hurt. A wall around a heart. A wall. A wall around the a heartless hurt. Or, a wall around a heartless man.
I'm upset and ashamed. I didn't try this semester. I just fucked it all up with Bobby this and Bobby that. And Ryan this and Ryan that. And Sam, and whoever the heck else. Heck. I love this word.
The walk to my dorm is pleasant and refreshing. I close my eyes and imagine I'm that scrawny girl in the grimm story with all the swans. How she's taken to prison. In a wagon. In rags. But not in shame.
I'll lose my scholarship. The grant. Grant. Sounds like a big stone. Or a big blond boy with a hammer.
"Hey beautiful!"
Maria skips along to me. She's so beautiful. She has this auburn hair that's so perfect. And elastic, plastic-shiny skin that glosses up the sky and makes the world more beautiful.
Ryan is finishing the sea. The reader will imagine watching Ryan in contrapposto, in profile.
Fuck, the reader this, the reader that. Focus Joce. Just take it one word at a time.
What are you trying to do?
"What are you trying to do?"
"No thing" Madalena says the two together. Majestic Madalena. With her wild black hair down her golden shoulders. Her big black eyes with the widest sky in them. With the hills and trees in them. All the world, in them.
She stands crouched over the tall grass. Her face kissing the earth. She thought she saw something. A poor, dried snail.
"You'll get dirty, you know"
"You'll get dirty, you know" Crescent smile freckle strong teeth clean smell all at once on my shoulder, my teeth, our teeth smash, there's salt now.
I know I will, but I tell him it's worth it. Worth it because that paint sure ain't goin' on that damn white material canvas and cuz that paint was made to paint.
The reader will imagine Ryan in contrapposto three slides back. Now, open your eyes Reader. Open them wide. Yes. Wait.
Ryan is not painting, poor soul. Ryan is an unfortunate example of palimpsest.
What?
"What??"
"I know! I'm here!" I hug Maria tight. Her warm flesh, inviting.
I want to kiss her mouth. I'm sad my grades are slipping.
"Maria! I can't never go out no more"
She knows somethin' is ..amiss. I never resort to the ..drawl.. in New England. Never, oh no no-sirree-bob.
"How bad?"
"Just in the low forties"
"Piece of "
"Shit!"
"Cake!"
I fall over in laughter. I see a snail.
Shit cake. My god.
Shit cake. I'm tired. I fall asleep beside the snail.
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