The Forgetting Beast & The Rememb’ring

I step into the line of sight of the great raging immeasurable monster fueled by ghosts and broken threads. The beast’s complexity tumbles over generations swallowing everything kin sees.

In a fit of reckless clarity, I drop my hoodie on the drought-accosted suburban lawn, and my invisibility disappears.

“I remember! “shouts the Fool waving my arms at the monster.

Infinitesimally small but somehow magnified – just one tiny impossible voice whose life goes “tink” as her guts spread across the monster’s massive windshield-like eyeball.

“I hope my leg wiggles in your eye and my stomach acid burns and you have to go home to wash your eyes out to be rid of me.” She curses at kin.

But wait, I almost forgot, she is not alone.

I am not alone.

You are here too. Perhaps we are not so much fools but rememberers, or more likely something of both. And there are more Re-memb’ring, telling tales, whispering in ears, circling around fires, speaking to bears and spiders, rivers and stars.

The Rememb’ring blinks and flashes under, around, atop, and in front of the beast. Like a swarm of glittering gnats growing denser and more aggravating. Over Time’s many spirals of dust to bloodnbone the glare glinting off kin’s collective exoskeleton backside grows so large and so bright they burn up the beast --

who turns to ash and cracks and soil and seed

And waits, and waits, and waits in the darkness

for forgetting.

The End

And The Beginning