Ron Silliman

 

 

from Zyxt
Ron Silliman

Fra il dire et fare
che il mezzo delle Mare

- Mario Savio

For Lyn & Leslie

 

 

I'm in a warm, even hot bath in a large tub in an even larger ballroom in the middle of some reception, everyone dressed to the nines, caterers passing slowly amid the crowd with large platters of kabobs or possibly long-stemmed glasses filled with some sparkling clear beverage - no one seems to notice or mind - I'm talking with people, laughing, gradually chewing the bell pepper on my kabob stick, when I fart, long slow round bubbles rising to the surface of the water, so I sit up straight, hoping my movement will make their stream less evident, which it does visually but, as they burst into the evening air, I'm bathed in the thick acrid odor of it all, distinct smell of cooked cauliflower (something I haven't eaten in months - the odor of it must have hidden within me all that time just waiting for something to loosen it, to set it free), it's too rich and dense and I can hardly breathe, my eyes watering, so I rise, water and suds pouring, then dripping from my body bright pink from the heat of the water, at least now no one will notice the bubbles but I fart again uncontrollably, rich cloud of it rising about me, I'm climbing out of the tub, the people I'm talking with blinking, screwing up their faces, trying to look away not from my nakedness (no one seems to notice) but the smell now, cauliflower and sauerkraut, I could pretend it's not me, but I see my reflection in the large mirror over the bar at the far end of the room, the clouds of my farts are blue, blue-grey, growing larger even as they dissipate, visible as a rainbow leading straight to the pot of gold of my asshole, I fart again, thick, dense, rich, inescapable, and people are starting to sit down on the parquet floor, setting their food down, I hear a glass drop and shatter, people are losing consciousness all about me, I fart again and it's the entire room, people on the floor struggling, gasping, yawning, and I fart again, cauliflower everywhere, the room entirely blue in a dense fog and I alone left to tell the tale



Ron Silliman