it’s you to visit

it’s you to visit

“Oh my gosh, it’s true,” says I, ‘…it’s you” as joy came by

The happy face replies, “It’s true, it’s I. I came to visit”

“No, ‘you’ I said. Not I”

“I know it’s I”

In my reply “Thought it was you, I must have been mistaken, sorry”

“Sorry I, I forgot my place. Brother, embrace speaks clearer than the words we’re given. I have an hour, let’s not quarrel”

“An hour without ‘h’ is our,” so says I and he did smile

“So true, what do you do?” he asks

“I’m guarding” echoed I, rearranged the sound to suit

“Guarding what?” replied

“Guarding that borders do not grow, keep order where none thinks there is. If border grows, I pull it down. This duty’s mine ‘til end of week, the roster sets my doing”

“Is it important, having none?”

“My word it is, my word and theirs. Madness in bounds, worse than insanity gone mad, the thought just bulks each cell in brain. Insanity contained? Sheer madness to the power of it’s root, then cubed, then squared, then split as hair, then plat using the spit of cave dwell bats, then blend in boil of bubbly brine and try you may and try you do, such mess no men and neither you undo. No hare, insane or otherwise, brain such speak to bear, even if blessed and able to split hairs it bears, each into nine. Brother, what did you eat? What led such question lead to speak?”

“Forgive me for the asking”

“Forgive I do, forgave I did, for you not know is freedom. Ire a deadly sin, no space I have to grant it harbour. Nurse I shall not such wrath. Take this, don’t look and swallow, it’s just a bit of soil. Harm knows it not, it’s all I’ve got, and it’s not even mine. It’s from the earth and earth will keep whoever it as bits may carry. With it allow the gifting, as hour is not ours soon, may bring to you the wisdom no erudition able to. As core of stalch absorb the soil, that’s all, no need do any else. This gift endowed to you will bring. Here, sip some water, do”

“Bring what?”

“Why is it, that you can put question even whilst the answer’s in your mouth?”

© Heinz Ross, Gold Coast, Australia
15 Jan 2009

it’s you to visit


Joined August 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Most of my writings are from a first person perspective in order to get as close to a character as possible. This explains why “I” may ‘become’ a piece of wood, a child, feminine or whatever.

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