A Pet 12

her eyes were silver

mercury

a burst of brilliance

a hypnotic interest?

why won't you look into my eyes?

i'm scared.

you're scared now.

i'm seriously scared.

you're an old man. you've lived a long life. a sacrifice is not bad.

why can't you sacrifice a candy bar?

what do you mean?

it's without sin?

is a candy bar really without sin.

i don't know. it doesn't intend to give you a sugar high.

i know nothing of intentions. you were brought into a nice home and you betrayed their trust by wanting to kill the mother and marry the daughter.

so untrue.

true

not.

too.

proof.

here are you dreams.

my dreams?

yes.

here you are making a beast with two backs.

she seems to be cooperating.

that's because you've dephallicized her, delocalized her true identity and presented her as an absence.

kind of like what you are doing with me.

what?

anyway, you are guilty as charged.

of what.

PLEASE GET IT OVER WITH ASAP. I WANT TO SEE HIM BURNED. the daughter spoke.

you see how evil you are.

if you say so. FIRST...

i want a shaman to connect to my catog spirit and for him to speak on my behalf.

as you wish.

a white shaman entered.

is everyone white here? even cowboys?

we have the right to rewrite history.

why?

it makes people feel better.

ok.

the white shaman danced around the bonfire of vanities through the veins of the great gatsby into the guts of moby dick and came back out as the catog.

i never wanted to have sex with the daughter.

i want to question him, THE DAUGHTER SPOKE.

who are you?
a catog.

are you a cat or a dog?

a catog. i'm not mutually exclusive.

then why do you hang around cats?

tic-tacs.

your honor, he's showing contempt of the court.

overruled.

do you want to have sex with me?

no.

why?

the catog walked around her and sized her up and then blithly said, "you're not my type."

your honor, he acts just like a typical cat.

your point being.

there's really nothing asian about him. he acts so fucking white and superior.

we'll take note.

how do you define asian...

servile... yes i see your point.

so what is the verdict?

we'll burn him.

WHY? the catog and the old korean man asked simultaneously.

disturbing the public peace.

FUCK. they always get me on that one.

CASE CLOSED.

the old korean man and the catog were both tied around a tree to be burned by the snakes of eternity. the white goddess's eyes gleamed with pleasure. he burned and burned and burned like the first tree of eternity, through adam's thirst and the thunder of Yahweh, like spears the flames flickered over him as he sang his song and the catog sang too although off key and kilter... they sang and sang and sang til all the shamans of korea bathed themselves in pristine waters, put on their faces once again and then sang again tell the infertile grew horns of Moses and launched themselves upon their speedy course of making babies.

the body of the old korean man began to change into a form of a gorgeous korean man. the catog burned into the heart of the man. the gorgeous korean man stepped out from the flames and kissed the White Goddess.

silver are your eyes

slithering imprints upon time

let your glory

shuffle off the meat of fashion.

Deborah came out from the shades.

The gorgeous korean man held her hand and kissed her.

This is unfair, the daughter interjected.

so what is his punishment? she continued.

HE IS TO GO TO HOLLYWOOD AND MAKE A MOVIE ABOUT THE FIRST KOREAN PRESIDENT WITH HIS CONSORT DEBORAH.

not my wish.

it's beyond your control.

it was then that she realized that she had really loved the old korean man. how many days he had taught her physics and gave her a love of the universe, the fabric of time on the rippling waves of the universe. she remembered when she wanted to bring him to show and tell when she was young except that he would turn back into a catog and then she remembered him cleaning her shoes and mending them. he would literally complain about nothing and slept in a corner always and he would teach her what he knew, asking really for nothing but a simple room of his own. but she had hated him too, so very much, and she did not know why. why did we insist on creating others on the basis of our projections of them? Was the real so horrible? How did one approach the real, with fear and loathing.... what right did she have to say what he was?

you look like a young brando.

hopefully i can stay that way.

are you sure that you want to go to Hollywood?

Deborah...

she was so unbelievably beautiful.

as

always.

 

THE END