The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

August 14, 2008

julu murmured hello
julu, no, she
nikuko muttered i couldn't care less
but not murmured. something else, closer to muttering, friendlier.
not whispering, nothing like that.
but not i couldn't care less. something else, closer to disdain,
but not quite. a return that veered into the unknown. but polite,
polite conversation, not exactly a rejoinder. nikuko muttering,
i thought so, or i thought you knew. an implication, knowing:
more than that, more than you'd let on. but not that exactly.
julu, murmuring - hello.
nikuko, muttering - it could only get worse.
or it will only get worse. but what, a morning, afternoon, or
evening. or somewhere else, perhaps it will turn elsewhere,
against the odds. as if julu garbled. perhaps these two fine
people. but it falls off, these weren't the volleys or returns.
these weren't anything at all. 'all memories are memories of
annihilation.' that's it, for what could be remember if there
were no end to it, packaging, however brief and quickening.
nikuko, muttering: there's an end to an end, call it memory.
julu, murmuring: i remember now, hello again.

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