Tygarjas Twyrls Blog

A friend of mine transitioned a week from last  Monday. I called her Jamie, which roughly translated in French means “I Friend.” She just liked the name and would have preferred to be called that, whether or not she knew the French I couldn’t tell ya. Her given name was Jane. That I am capable of creating with my hands, I owe to her. The last decade or so of her life she awaited death as one who wished to see home after many years in jail, and was severely irritated that it hadn’t come yet whenever I saw her. I figured I should attempt to write something in the spirit of her this week since I regard her as one of my greatest teachers in this life, and will miss her accordingly.

I Friend

“God bless it! You made me laugh! How dare you!”

“Well, look, if you’re looking forward to your imminent decay, I’d like to have at least some happy recollection of you before you go off to feed the worms. And no, I’m not the least bit sorry for it!”

“I’ll haunt you for that you know!”

“I would be so lucky! You’ll probably haunt the maggots for longer. Or with a little luck they’ll regard you as a trilobite in a few million years, but this don’t look like volcano weather to me . . .”

Interlude

That’s about where I have to end this story, it’s odd having a dialogue with a dead person, even if it’s really more indicative of my mind than anything, and  I really don’t have anywhere else to take it, so, I think I’ll try my hand toward a little bad poetry and call it a week. I thank my readership for humoring me, it is what it is . . .

In The Image Of

You take a rabbit,

hippity hop,

chop off its head and feed some flowers,

don’t dare ask what kind,

cut it down the middle to remove its entrails,

and skin it nice and slow;

dinner time before the creative process begins.

When that skin is dry, stretch it amidst a frame,

awl some holes for leather cord,

around the ring hold that pelt in place!

Next pick the flowers that have grown

from the life of your food;

grind them with mortar and pestle,

add just a few drops of water,

let the colors come out,

their natural juice.

Bring whiskers together for a brush,

and point yourself in the direction of sunrise;

the colors will be perfect,

we create in the image of the divine.

I love you my friend. May you be irritated by this life no longer!