The space consumes the form and the form the space. The terrain absorbs itself. Color sops up difference. Separations pinch. Holes twist open. Pathways stretch from crevices. This strange material is caught in a stagnant churn. Reforming the form without any original form to begin with and no final form to reach. Tossing and tumbling into itself, it ingests what it discharges and discharges what it ingests. Its gestures are traces; its cracks experiences. A static vortex suspended by its own force hovers through the emptiness.
Down by the concrete river, the spirits arise from patches of datura where the spiral that became a pinwheel stretches itself again to take on the form of ghostly plant emanations pollinated by the consciousness of any wanderer who lingers long enough for the vegetal spirits to unfurl their psychoactive shapeshifting tendrils and guide the awareness toward the unity of all things through the merging of forms and the collective existence of iterative semblances.
The gentle bloom unfolds. Its fruit a shield. The flower a star. Its warm dough a heart. The petals a pinwheel. Its seeds a portal back into the unfolding bloom.
Once there was a bird who got so lost that it didn’t know that it was a bird. And this bird came upon a nice lake and found a tree by the lake with a low-lying branch to rest on. As the bird perched there, a fish swam by who had traveled so far from the mountains that it had forgotten that it was a fish.
When the fish swam by the branch, it saw the branch move. So the fish swam back to look again. And the bird saw the lake move and saw that it had a mouth and eyes. So the bird stared at the fish and the fish at the bird. The fish asked the bird if it was a part of the tree. And the bird asked the fish if it was a part of the lake.
Some other birds came and landed on the tree and asked the bird why it was talking to a fish. And some other fish swam by and asked why the fish was talking to a bird. The bird asked the others what a bird was and the fish asked the others what a fish was. The other birds told the bird it wasn’t a fish and the other fish told the fish it wasn’t a bird so that they’d stop talking to each other. Then the others flew and swam away.
The bird said “I guess I’m not a fish.”
The fish said “I suppose I’m not a bird.”
So the bird asked the fish what makes a fish a fish. And the fish said a fish is a fish because it swims in the water. And the fish asked the bird what makes a bird a bird. And the bird said a bird is a bird because it flies in the air. And both asked each other to prove it. The bird flew in the air. The fish swam in the water.
But the bird said that it could swim too. And the fish said that it could also fly. And so the bird dove into the water and swam and the fish jumped over the bird and flew through the air. So they said that sometimes a bird can be a fish and a fish a bird.
And then a bug flew by who had gotten so lost that the bug had forgotten what it was and the bug asked the bird and the fish and they both said they knew exactly what it was, food. And they ate the bug. Then the bird told the fish that it wished it were a fish. And the fish too wished that it were a bird. The other birds came back and asked the bird if it had figured out who it was and it said it was sometimes a bird and sometimes a fish. The other birds laughed and flew away again. The other fish swam back, too, and asked the fish who it was and it said sometimes a fish and sometimes a bird. And they laughed and swam away.
Then the brother of the bug they ate came by and wanted revenge so it told them that they were what they ate and escaped before they could eat it.
The bird asked the fish and the fish asked the bird if they were in fact bugs. And when the other birds and fish were coming back, they buzzed off together convinced that they were indeed bugs being hunted by the other birds and fish.
Since they were bugs now, they refused to eat their own kind so they starved and without food they became lightheaded. When they witnessed the sun rise on their last day, they believed that they had become reflections of that light dancing on the water and did not notice that they left their bodies behind.
scattered on the old river flakes of light flutter in the breeze like passing thoughts a seed finds purchase in such barren ground some crust as thin as an eggshell divides waters details flutter in the belly of the mind, why?