Pollen, a drop. It all comes together.
That’s what the piccolo man said. On the steps of the old library, closed up with asbestos and no running water. A rotting nod back to 1968, which is also when the piccolo man was born. Maybe that will be important, though it isn’t now.
The honeybees turn the pollen of all the different flowers into one, unified substance. A drop in the ocean both is and isn’t a drop.
His lunchtime sermons could gather a small crowd given the right conditions. The right conditions: warm sun and a cool breeze from the lake, university in session, lunch specials from the carts on the square, no live music on State and Washington. Aware of these conditions, the piccolo man prepared most carefully for Tuesdays in September, October, April and May. On these days, he also wore his yellow tweed jacket, even when the early September sun reached 105 degrees.
Everything is the pollen. Everything is the drop.
Who are the honeybees?
The piccolo man sometimes made me believe in god. But Tuesdays were six days in between, and in all that meantime god would be replaced with herbal tea or marijuana in Alix's room. But this time, God as honeybees and the tide. I couldn’t get it off my fingers.
I didn’t like to look at the piccolo man directly, or speak to him before, after, or during his talks. It was best to avoid his attention altogether, because he had bad habits. (I was there when the members of the House banded together to get him off the property. I hung toward the back and hoped he would not recognize my face.)
Wednesday night I was still consumed by thoughts of the honeybees. I lay in my bed and watched the moths bouncing off the ceiling light. Through the dust on my window screen I could see the sailboats coming back in. Who are the honeybees? Yes, who are the honeybees? I would have to speak to the piccolo man.
10.8.10
The Cooperation of Anarchists, part 1 of 45
Glyphia has stopped eating sugar. She collected the elderberries from the trees at the university to make wine. The man with the piccolo followed her back to the House, and we all had to band together to get him off the property.
There were rumors Alix and I needed to put to rest. Rumors about Bosco and misconduct and a girl of the House. Bosco played for Alix and me folk songs and taught me to play ancient Mayan stone games. Bosco slept curled up in Alix's chair, purring. Caught in transition between lives, the beast, the man. Bosco never spoke above a whisper.
I thought Alix would stand up with me. As all the House sat around half-naked in the summer time heat, drunk on elderberry wine, four hours of seated aggression, I stood and defended Bosco's integrity at the House council.
I looked to Alix. He responded.
"If there are members of the House that feel threatened by another member, we have an obligation to remove him."
That was not the right answer.
"No." I said. "No, no. Members must keep personal grudges separate from the affairs of the House. We have an obligation to expose the truth."
Alix and I were Bosco's alibi. He was with us the night in question. Our testimony means everything. And Alix's testimony means I'm not a liar.
Glyphia and Zylon whet their spear heads.
Alix's eyebrows said, "Sorry Signe." My eyebrows said, "you dirty liar."
The Vote was in. Bosco and I spent that night curled up under roots with the piccolo man by the lake.
There were rumors Alix and I needed to put to rest. Rumors about Bosco and misconduct and a girl of the House. Bosco played for Alix and me folk songs and taught me to play ancient Mayan stone games. Bosco slept curled up in Alix's chair, purring. Caught in transition between lives, the beast, the man. Bosco never spoke above a whisper.
I thought Alix would stand up with me. As all the House sat around half-naked in the summer time heat, drunk on elderberry wine, four hours of seated aggression, I stood and defended Bosco's integrity at the House council.
I looked to Alix. He responded.
"If there are members of the House that feel threatened by another member, we have an obligation to remove him."
That was not the right answer.
"No." I said. "No, no. Members must keep personal grudges separate from the affairs of the House. We have an obligation to expose the truth."
Alix and I were Bosco's alibi. He was with us the night in question. Our testimony means everything. And Alix's testimony means I'm not a liar.
Glyphia and Zylon whet their spear heads.
Alix's eyebrows said, "Sorry Signe." My eyebrows said, "you dirty liar."
The Vote was in. Bosco and I spent that night curled up under roots with the piccolo man by the lake.
4.4.09
Dad Says, "Tip Dental Fricative" (But who knows why)
And so I did fell away
And so to fellow I did say,
Why’d the minute hand join the evening clock?
When it’s only been morning since dawn?
But time to shave and give her all my love,
Waste the page, with hyperbolic troub.
el
UL
Le
If thirst breaks the water trough,
Then your god will come in a rain cloud,
Her god knows I’d give all I’ve got,
But it’s yours and mine I’m bothering about.
Mine forms the keystone at the top.
Of the Roman arch constructed thought.
Te
Te
Te
Kenya man said you can’t find him,
Not in flash of sun or lightning,
Just inside the vessels of the righteous,
Carrying, pumping, until the blood quits.
I never said you were my only one,
But all of it’s for you, my truest love.
And so to fellow I did say,
Why’d the minute hand join the evening clock?
When it’s only been morning since dawn?
But time to shave and give her all my love,
Waste the page, with hyperbolic troub.
el
UL
Le
If thirst breaks the water trough,
Then your god will come in a rain cloud,
Her god knows I’d give all I’ve got,
But it’s yours and mine I’m bothering about.
Mine forms the keystone at the top.
Of the Roman arch constructed thought.
Te
Te
Te
Kenya man said you can’t find him,
Not in flash of sun or lightning,
Just inside the vessels of the righteous,
Carrying, pumping, until the blood quits.
I never said you were my only one,
But all of it’s for you, my truest love.
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