Words Whispered While Weeping Water-side

Whenever we, the unexacting uninitiated, pioneer grey techniques leading to many more, to much more, to ever more…
Whenever we, the uninitiated in the old, witchy ways of rotting, river hags, come to the water’s edge…
Whenever we dip our dry, dusty toes into her moving mouth of gritty tears and life determined to swim under pebbles…
Whenever we, the wet-toed, now, descend to our waists in the flowing baptismal, her chilly fingertips threaten…

We, whenever, swayed by liquid promises and fluid assurances.
We, whenever, wealthy and worn.
We, whenever, uninitiated ’til the end,
     emptied into a larger body.

Words Whispered While Weeping Water-side

Under What Conditions of An Absolute Reality

Kick DJs with specific needs to help all others in their own special work

PJ’d pawns get sold early down the road for last lost lonely wages

Censorship she was and she enjoyed it he said later on

Thanks to spending time together with our new family

All around an oval table covered in the Grey ash of incinerated loves

In the morning the tasks remain open boxes yet unchecked

In the afternoon the lunch bags glisten and goo begging sandwich

In the evening the screens aglow with sprites and horror many covered beds

In the house open parens

Of the Home closed parens

Kicked DJs ampersand

PJ’ed pawns period

Under What Conditions of An Absolute Reality

The Waterwood Box, 78

Catch up!

The trip to Altern’s complex was laborious and fraught with many missteps. After hours of swimming in a single direction, Ramata would notice something, some clue or other, that would force them to backtrack and often change directions. It wasn’t that the complex was hidden, or even that hard to find, but since none of them knew where to go – trying to find the place proved much harder than they’d expected.

Had they seen anyone along the way, they might have been able to ask for directions. Trouble was, they saw no one at all. A few solitary, sea cucumbers watched the trio as they swam overhead and, at one point, what Adam though was the shadow of a manta turned out to be a sand shark shuffling around under its silty cover.

Finally, after all the turnarounds and misdirection, it became obvious to them that they were getting close to something. Along Ocean’s floor, spread out according to someone’s plan, small hovels built from coral began to crop up. The first few that appeared didn’t register with the group. But after noticing four or five, Adam spoke up.

“Slow down a sec.”

Ramata, never eager to slow their pace, wanted an explanation.

“Just look down there,” Adam pointed.

“At the coral?” asked Spot.

“And over there,” Adam pointed further away, where another of the coral huts sat in the distance. “And back there.” He pointed back the way they’d come.

Now Ramata was interested. “We must be getting close to something. It’s like a grid…”

Ramata was right. The huts were laid out in a grid. Directly under Adam, Ramata, and Spot was one of the coral boxes. A quarter mile or so to their left, to their right, ahead of, and behind them, were exact duplicates.

“What do you think they are?” asked Spot.

“We’ll never know from way up here. Let’s go look.” Ramata lead the way down to the small building below them. The group got closer and Ramata went all the down to look inside the hut. Two spiny urchins sat together within it. There were also a few plants inside growing from the ocean floor and in one corner of the hut was a cage holding an eel.

One of the urchins caught Ramata peeking into one of the hut’s four windows (one on each wall) and immediately barked something. Ramata didn’t understand and couldn’t respond so instead swam back up to the hut roof top where Adam and Spot waited.

“There are urchins in there!”

“Great! That means we must be close,” Adam smiled.

The Waterwood Box, 78

Experiencing a bug that changed the letter “i” to a series of unreadable symbols

In the hum-drum, unsung

If I️ was the time of your time,

If I️ was the tear of your tears,

If I️ was the glass of your house,

Then we could have forgotten chaos.

We could’ve had a sodium discharge.

We could, of course, been wishful asphyxiation

Unsung, hum-drummed.

Experiencing a bug that changed the letter “i” to a series of unreadable symbols

The Waterwood Box, 77

Catch up!

Chapter 17
Altern’s Complex

Luck was with the trio as they escaped the confines of Big Ruins. The frenzied sharks were nowhere to be seen and the waters all around greeted them with an eerie calm. They followed the length of the ship to its bow and headed into the open expanse of Ocean ahead.

Ramata and Spot had no idea how long it would take to get to King Altern. Neither had before been anywhere near the complex and could only guess as to distances (or even directions). They instead looked for signs along the way that offered them clues about where to go next. The only reason Ramata suggested their current direction was because last time she was near Big Ruins, there was a manta swimming by. Ramata had seen the sharks then, too, of course, but they weren’t a surprise. The waterfolk also glimpsed the Turtle, which was a big surprise. Ramata stayed hidden from the manta and the Urchin Army, but did remember which way the manta swam off. So, that‘s the direction they loosely followed. Whether or not this direction would lead to King Altern they could only hope. And hope kept them moving forward.

Though the way was slow and mostly unremarkable, Adam kept his complaints and impatience to himself. He knew that Ramata and Spot were putting themselves in serious danger by coming along with him. Their fear made him slightly wary of what he was getting himself into, entering Altern’s complex unannounced, but he was determined to find the Drain. He was also determined to keep his friends with him as long as possible so he kept his mouth shut and the three swam quietly through Ocean.

The Waterwood Box, 77

The Waterwood Box, 76

Catch up!

“Weren’t you listening, Adam?” asked Ramata. “The Drain is smack dab in the middle of Altern’s complex. Tiskaloons aren’t allowed there and you look enough like a Tiskaloon that you shouldn’t try to go there either, at least, not if you care for yourself. Adam, the Turtle just told you about the Drain so you’d be quiet and stop asking questions. I’m sorry, but you have to admit, there’s no going back. You got the answer to your question. Spot and I are both sorry it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.”

“Ramata’s right, Adam. You can’t just walk up to King Altern and ask to see the Drain. Let’s go back to Tiskaloo and figure out something else. It’s not the end of the world.”

Adam turned away and shook his head. “You can both go back. That’s fine. Go. Thanks for your help. I’m not going back. I’m going to find the Drain of the World and if that means I have to walk right up to King Altern and ask – then that’s what I have to do.”

“It’s suicide, Adam.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s taking charge of the only thing I really can control – my actions. You tell me, what else can I do?”

“Come back to Tiskaloo. We have options.”

“Or, come swim and study with my school.”

“And spend every day wondering what Altern has and if it might somehow get me back home? I can’t.”

Ramata and Spot looked at each other. Their eyes were rimmed with fear yet they both knew Adam was going to do whatever it took for him to get some questions answered. He was determined to go with or without them. Since they knew Adam had no idea of where he now was or how to get where he wanted to go – they decided they had no choice but to help him. As scared as they were, they had to help him.

The Waterwood Box, 76

Deleuze Sends Us a Singing Telegram

There is a market and there is a you and there is a market only seeing there is a you inasmuch as there as a you contributing to the market and there is no room for empathy on the trading room floor and there is no sense of there is a you outside of there is a your wallet and there is a someone once saying that because there is a we no longer understanding there is an our relationship to the there is a world our there is a society growing ever more out-of-whack and there is no separation now between there is a market and there is a you because there is a you is now there is a market and there is nothing poetic nor romantic nor literary nor nor nor nothing but the depressed and is there a wonder and is there a hope and is there a chance and is there a desire and is there a plan and is there a nothing poetic nor nothing but there is a there is

Deleuze Sends Us a Singing Telegram

The Waterwood Box, 75

Catch up!

Spot nudged Adam’s back

“I’m here because I want to know where I can find land,” Adam said.

The Turtle looked at each of them before asking, “That’s it?”

Relief surged through Adam. This wasn’t so bad after all. He smiled. “That’s it.”

“Go outside the ship, back out into Ocean, and swim down until you can swim no further. Reach down and – when you hit something hard – that is land.” The Turtle began to swim up and away.

“Wait, wait!” Adam cried out. “Dry land!”

“Ohhh…well, that’s different.”

“A lot different, yes.”

“There isn’t any,” the Turtle said matter-of-factly and again attempting to swim up and away.

Ramata put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

He shrugged the water-folk off and swam up towards the Turtle. “There must be something!” Adam yelled. “An island somewhere…some…thing…,” his voice broke off into loud sobs.

“Please keep down the noise! I’m trying to leave this ship without becoming shark food!”

“I don’t care if the sharks come here! They can come eat the rest of me.”

The Turtle sighed and stopped swimming. “There’s another way, of course. Isn’t there always? If you want dry land, you must simply unplug the Drain of the World. But, since you can’t really do that, you won’t get any dry land. So, learn to enjoy Ocean and quit pining for that which cannot return. You’re alive, child. There is no greater gift for which to ask.”

“What’s the Drain of the World?”

“Dear child, my patience, and air, run thin.”

“Please, if there is any chance, any at all, I have to understand it.”

“And I’ve explained to you that there is no chance. The Drain sits in the middle of King Altern’s complex and is that which allows the King to rule over Ocean.”

“Ahem…,” Ramata interrupted.

“That which allows King Altern to rule over most of Ocean,” corrected the Turtle.

“But, what’s the Drain do?”

“What do any drains do? When unplugged, water flows through them. If the Drain of the World is unplugged, it would drain the water from Ocean.” All three of the travelers gasped and the Turtle continued. “I can no longer stay here. I must get air.” The Turtle swam off to a balcony set and disappeared into it.

Adam tried to call out further questions but the Turtle didn’t respond. He turned to Ramata and Spot. “You heard the Turtle.”

“Yes. I’m so sorry,” Ramata said again.

“Me too, Adam,” offered Spot. “Maybe you can join my school…if you didn’t want to live in Tiskaloo, that is.”

Adam couldn’t believe his ears. “What? Weren’t you listening? The Drain of the World! We’ve got to go!”

The Waterwood Box, 75