How can I talk to you all? How does one address an “us” — a collection of auto-catalyzing morphs… now you see us, now you don’t — you don’t even talk to each other, going on your separate ways as you do like animals in a zoo…
Fishes and urchins and frogs and logs, eyes and ears and Robin Williams, too, unsuspecting as he is, that he is among the “us” that is “you all” there, cackling away like my ducks when they are where they are not supposed to be.
How might one have a discussion among the reeds afloat in the sea, with plastic things among you all, feathers and dust, motes and confabulations all tangled up in a horrid mess, with eyes poking out of faces that aren’t really there, and do not care to be seen.
Seeing is the point, saying is the reason, being is the goal — an “us” all gathered together in a coral reef bed that claims to be “one organism of many”, something elemental but profoundly diverse, too much to synthesize for my mind, and too many languages.