death(having lost)

I fell asleep to the Cave of Forgotten Dreams, and dreamed of cave-painting my living room with the monsters from my dreams.

I like the former-circus performer turned archeologist. He says, “I am a scientist, but I am a human too,” as if the two are commonly mutually exclusive. I imagined him having pizza with Richard Feynman, and saying that, and Feynman getting his patient, mirthful grin while he explains that why OF COURSE a scientist is a YOOMAN, you see, just because when I look at cave PAINTings, I see the moleCULES of the PIGments used, and I imagine the half life of the PRIDE preserved in, in the, in the minerals and ROCK, the STORY of manKIND, does that mean I am less of a YOOMAN than someone who just says, says, oh, look at the beautiful rudimentary horse FIGures? and then the former-circus-performing archeologist would blame his English, and try to apologize, but Feynman would just tch tch and roll up a piece of pizza and bite off the end with relish, he did everything with relish, all of life is a condiment, and tell him, Aww, forget it, it’s just the dreams that stuff is made of.

I may buy some paint tomorrow. Here there be monsters and scientists, humans all.


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