a este m o h
The Man with a Tree on his Foot
Theatre of Words
the man with a tree on his foot
Once before the sun was up but the light was long and looming there was a man who went to walk with his feet out in the dew and because they both were bare and had nothing on to hide them the earth stood like a loving tongue and aroused them full and bright and about the time of sunrise and the time that he reached home his left foot was changed and fertile and was shooting with a tree.
It was tall enough that he could be sheltered by the branches and the leaves were broad and rich and green and made the birds fly low and they entered in among them to sing and pick their feathers or rock a while in sleepiness or to rearrange their wings.
It bloomed with supple flowers that were wider than a handprint and butterflies and pretty moths became lazy in the scent.
sationinconversati oninconversationin b e c a u s e ocninoitasrevnocni revnocninoitasrevn
i t a sr ev n o c n i n o i t a s There were gatherings for pollen of bees in conversation
and attention from red beetles that rummaged along the stems so it was that wherever he went colours came and voices and the energy of animals and visits from the wind.
All his life he had been busy with pleasantries and friendships and with cheerful games out on the grass and drinking in the pub and he liked to hear the whistle of people in a greeting and he loved the little laughter that came from the times ahead
and he went to all night cafes and fashionable bookshops and had his favourite girlfriends who accompanied him to tea and the nights were each as rich as cloth to wear against his face.
As much as the tree grew larger his foot became the lighter and somehow seemed to draw him on with a buoyancy and bounce
but he was most reluctant to be different from the others and he began to keep away from the places he liked best.
He picked up moods and habits from the front of his computer and looked for zines and anime and for stories with a slash and he felt and he encountered in fetishes and photos and online files of K-pop clips showing pretty boys and girls an arousal in his heart and the soft parts of his body that he hoped would be sufficient to dry the tree and kill it and the flowers be forgotten and the branches drop away
but the more he saw and listened and let his mind go freely the more that things were beautiful and the more that they were strong and the more they filled his bloodstream the more the branches flourished and the tree was always with him in extravagance of growth.
But he could not be lonely and he went outside to wander and petals fell where he walked by and made bouquets on the street and people turned to watch him in the places that he came to
places and they opened up their windows and looked outward through their doors and some who were not busy but were lurking in the shadows put aside their subtle purpose and returned into the light
petals fell turned to watch him through their doors
and those with wealth who had nice cars and dresses of soft fabric looked up from in their gardens and their associates and wine and the hungry under benches and the frightened and the poor uncovered themselves from hiding to the welcome of the sky
and in amongst the people and the colours of their looking he felt the branches reaching out and a shifting through the wood and in all the noise and movement he realised that the tree was aware of everyone and had knowledge of their heartbeats and could understand their silence and could listen to their thoughts and nothing could stop it growing and nothing would make it go.
He went into a cafe in the best part of the precinct where one of the girls he chanced to love was sitting with a drink and she opened out her fingers and leaned across to kiss him
but he was always mindful and he felt the tree beside him and he felt that it was joyful and was present in his lips and as the kiss was lingered he was solid and determined to resist the tree and reject it and force it far away
but as it was receded into emptiness and distance the girl felt like a paper and there was dust beside her mouth and the more he hoped to want her and to be his own desire the more her kisses came to him as a dryness without taste but the tree was full and joyful and when he let it touch him she was a world of wonders and the kiss was a world of stars.
When he went outside again the lights that shone upon his face were like a mask that fitted him but was smaller than himself and he could go and wear it pinching down upon his cheekbones like an article of armour or the tag of a machine but the tree was great and larger than all his heart and body and he was just a part of it and his strength was in the growth and he looked out to the night time and pushed away the darkness that otherwise was closing fast on his forehead and his eyes.
ćœ¨ this is how it seems to me this is always how it seems to me this is how it has always been when it has seemed this way to me so i see that it is this way and it seems so as it so seems to me that is this way so it seems to me this way
In the years that followed he was a man of wild adventure and was married to the woman he once kissed beside her drink and he loved her in the deserts and on the shallow beaches and went with her to waterfalls and to places near the cloud and his children sat beside him on rocks out in the garden and told him things as they grew up that he once had learned himself and he picked up nights and days and he filled them full of motion and he let new comets go out free and run around the sun and the Earth went through its seasons according to his muscles and the joy from in his eyeballs made things shoot alive and grow.
homestead: Theatre of Words