This Woman, Part 2
My love is burning magnesium. White hot then gone. She didn’t text back. I don’t give a shit.
I got on Filipino Cupid. They look and talk like their heads are coconuts with features drawn on. Except one. On a tiny island. She’ll be the mother of my children.
No dealing with a girl who won’t fuck on the first date. Because you can’t know. Do I like you or just need you to like me. Her sweat just made me pheromonal. Her long puffy nipples. Mine perfect, compact. What would our children’s have been like.
Me and my dad bred rabbits. We got the biggest albino female we could find. The tiniest black male. Thunder and Lightning. The baby was medium, tan. Brownie. I loved her. One day something got in the hutch and took her. Point being: our children. Medium size nipples. Now gone.
Women need to need one of me like I need one of them. Even the fat ones don’t like me anymore. It’s because I feel too much. Then too little. I’m too ugly, et cetera.
People tell me it’s misogyny. But I was worse before. I’m too horny. Worse before. The worse you are the better they like you. That must be it. They hate me for how great I am. No going back now. I was a dick like some people are pro athletes. I only had so much in me.
Texted her because I wanted to hold hands and watch the comet. A miracle. I could still go, I thought. Who needs her. I could be with my God.
I went alone up the hill. Waited a long time in the dark. It didn’t come. As expected.
There was a micro-scandal a few months ago, in which some photos of women on toilets got leaked from a new Rumba vacuum prototype. Apparently they were developing one with a camera that would have superior navigation of the home. In order to do this, it required a bunch of image processing.
However, rather than using sophisticated algorithms, the company (iRobot) was sending the images to a contractor in Venezuela. Some of the Venezuelan contractors took some of the pics of women peeing and leaked them to a Facebook chat and they got out from there.
Somewhere in this, I’m convinced there is a perfect metaphor for modernity but I can’t articulate it. I hope, someday, DT will give it to us.
My dad told an opposite story. Berlin, Invalidenstrasse, the street of the mental patients., 1943. “We took the little female and put him with the biggest buck rabbit we could find!” His fat red face, sputtering spittle, quaked with the hilarity as he remembered it.
My father was half Prussian half Pole. Kinda like being half black I guess. His Pole mom, born in Chicago to a woman who died untreated for a failed abortion due her Catholicism, made it through the nazi era without racial purity papers. My grandfather was a low level nazi official, doing compliance visits to factories and such. My dad said, “my father taught me to respect my father, and love my mother.”
Maybe I respect my father by following in his ways, his proclivities.