THE SKULL RINGI am very excited about the skull ring. I didn't know anyone would think I wanted a silver skull ring. Now, when I am rude to those who oppose me, I can just look down at the skull ring. It has ruby chips in the eyes! Ruby chips like the nasty flame in my own eyes when I am insulted or reviled. No one will dare oppose me now in my hometown. For a very long time I have avoided rings because none of them seemed right for me. A skull ring is actually a good complement to my diabolical will. Thank you very much for the skull ring. PRIMROSE............when my mother.................................................................................................................was raped......................................................................................................................................................................................................a harpsichord began to play..............................................................................................................................................red candles melted.....and...............................spilled down the mantle......................................................................................................................................................there was blood in the courtyard........................and blood on the birdbath...................................................................and blood drizzled....on brown flagstones..........................................................................................as a red fox bared its teeth..............................................................................white harts..............froze..................................................................and snow-hares fled......................................................................and left.................................................heartshaped footprints in the snow...........................................................................................................................that melted........................................................................................................................................in the spring when I was born.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................and it is torture......for my mother.............................that I am now luscious.................................................................................................and she is dead..................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................and that I have...................................................................................................................bare shoulders.......................................................................................................................................and a flower behind my ear......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................as I beat gentleman rapists...................................................................................................................................................................................................................with bronze statuettes......................................................................................so that the blood...........................oozes down their handsome sideburns......................................or slash them with a fire poker..............or give them............................a poisoned mushroom........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................or corsages and corsages of gunshotA SPEECH ABOUT THE MOONI think, "The moon is mine and all the craters are mine."Then I begin to think, "I am covered with drizzling grief.", "I have all the ice blue sinning birds.", "I control the sea.", and "Everything sticks out of the sea."Then I plunge my hand into the air and say, "I want to eat the fighting swordfish in the sea who stick their swords in boats!" And, "I want to eat their swords."Plus, "I like sultry avenging birds.", "Terrible birds with moisturized wings over the sea." and "I want to fight."Then I think about the hazel waves of the ocean and the hot creamy lemon grasses of the moon.I think, "I am going to sleep" and "I am dreaming about grey hair." and I lay very still for awhile. I think, "I can strew daisies in grey hair..."Then I start to cry and the tears flow down to my teeth. I think, "Everyone has to bite silver mesh."I constantly try to think, "Fish are resting in the sea." or "Some fish are just hanging in the sea."And I lie very still and tell myself, "...In the middle of the night...it is totally quiet...no crabs are coming towards you..."Then I sit up and cup my hands over my nose and shake my head slowly back and forth.The world rises up on both sides of me. I think, "I have to die."Then I lie in a position for a while.The moon is flapping and curling around me.I think clearly, "I have to lie facedown." or else "The moonlight is smoothed on my back like the map of someone who is trying to leave."Then I reluctantly think, "Dominating bluebirds.", "...that fly...", "around" and "...melon raptors..." and "Tricolor murder hawks.", "...with their songs."I lie on my side so that the tears from one eye slide into the other eye.I say, "I have to invent warm tawny roses that have never been seen before..."Then I fix the sheets which are twisted around my ankles and think, "I have to be tormented."Then I continue to think things about the moon, like, "The moon is a silver hitching ball...shorn...off the trucks of the world...."I tell myself, "...late at night...a placid sea monster...is rising out of the sea...with kelp on its head...to look at me..."I think about the moon again. "The moon is a silver leg-iron.", "My entrails are the color of moonlight."Then I think about the circulating birds.I rub my hands on my stomach and think "oh no" and start to cry.I pull the long tears out of my eyes and look away.Slow blinks crash down.Then I hold my wrist very tightly and watch the veins rise up so I become vascular in the moonlight.I think, "Birds are automatically beautiful" and twist around.I am dragging the satin around in my mind and thinking of my displeasure. I roll over.I cry more tears that spread across my face and think, "No, no, no", "Fish are biting the ocean."I think, "The thoughts are like terrible ballet teachers with canes." ClownIt seems that I'm growing more and more like a clown. First of all, I'm always sad. Secondly, all my knives are made out of rubber. Thirdly, it's like my house is on fire.No, I'm definitely becoming more like a clown. I have a tendency to want to put on clown clothes. As soon as I put the clown clothes on I feel faintly happier...Another sign is that I constantly feel like I'm alone in a dressing room. Most of the time I feel amused. Anyway, the only thing good about the circus is the tigers.I realize that I could get both legs cut off by the circus train or get frightened by an elephant. But it's very depressing to sit around in a clown suit and think about death. Sometimes I don't feel happy unless I'm in my clown suit. And I enjoy hitting people on the head with a foam club. I really do...When people see me they realize that it looks very sophisticated to wear a clown suit and smoke a cigarette. This is how I get all the ladies because they think I'm very droll. People don't understand how you turn into a clown. You turn into a clown because you feel more and more like putting on a clown suit. When you're around people you sense a kindliness. It makes you so nervous you can't stay calm. Which is why it feels perfectly normal to wear orange pants. Plus, it's very subversive to wear bow ties. You can't imagine how jolly everything is. And the fright wigs... I don't want to be a clown but I'm sure to be one. My mother was a clown. Excerpted from Zirconia / Bad Bad by Chelsey Minnis All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
