Go, bring back the worthless stick. "Of memory," I almost added. But she wouldn't understand, naturally. There is the word and the thing adhering. So far so good. Metaphor, drawer of drafting tools-- spill it on the study floor, animal says, that we might at least see how an expensive ruler tastes. Yesterday I pissed and barked and ate because that's what waking means. Thus has God solved time for me--here, here. What you call memory is a long and sweet, delicious crack of wood in my teeth I bring back and bring back and bring back.
From Gender Studies by Jeffrey Skinner. Copyright © 2002 by Jeffrey Skinner. Reprinted by permission of Miami University Press. All rights reserved.