PART II: THE PONY DRIPS

V 

Part II

But the world is here I promise, even pre-Jacksonians know, or post Jacksonians for that matter.

I sit here on a rose-embroidered bed looking at a motet for the fifth time with a cable beside me.

I take the cream on the other side of me, and slather the motet at the golden section, "there you go baby, your skin will be intact"

Papers lay everywhere, I don't remember it like this, so I clean up, but I realize that I'm in my elderly neighbors' house so I try to leave

They don't know of course, they’re both dead downstairs on their cute stolid couches, worn to the bone.

I walk out at a decent pace because they don't know, surely they don’t

They say bye, and I ignore; I'm focusing on opening the shade to the backdoor only closed a couple moments ago.

I release myself into a backyard of toys and adventure as if it were yesterday all over again

I chuckle because I know that the pony covered in chocolate has seen the world.

We speak, but the shutter comes back as it did just before my bedtime, and it all goes away, only stars, only beautiful Andromeda with her perky smile

Even she knows? I wonder. 

She swirls with orange and pink and purple beautiful, more than I could ever imagine, and colors I've never seen before, her hair wraps the stars and worlds firmly enough to keep them there forever

I look to the right and the pony is back and I wonder why; dripping in pink I see my baby melt away to sludge as important as melting ice cream

I notice the bed has come back transiently still to the right side but appearing my brain on the left

Where did I go? Where could I go? I was warped; no matter

I could hear my mother speaking in my father’s voice

"Don't try that with me" I replied 

Because she almost knew 

They all almost knew

The floral cup on the stand in front of the bed knows

But I know so I won't let them.