It’s a mouth, yes a mouth… Animalistic, cannibalistic… Ready to swallow you whole. In the dark, was it… Yes! All enveloped in darkness. And Billie is her name, name of said isolated mouth… Billie always was the favourite, Beckett said one word only : “miraculous”.
One.. one word only. What? YES. One word in recognition, of a woman unravelling in real time.. yes, unravelling. A hole, a chasm, a yawning bloody great chasm. Like the great Francis Bacon painting of.. The abyss, the great mortal hole. Animalistic, cannibalistic. And unremitting, working…working faster, than the brain could ever… words streaming out.. that globule of spit landing on the chin… repugnant..we’re all disgusting… And the spectators gawping like fish, uncertain how to…how to react, like it’s some kind of new language, or merely just vowel sounds…
A, E, I, Oh, god .. it used to be so easy, before the nudging… Nudged by, what? By mortality, silly. The hole, the teeth, ready to bite and chew, to masticate, the hole. We’re all going to fall in. Unremitting, unrelenting, unwritten, unknowable, all unknowable, ah, for that’s the point, how’s it going to end? The abyss, that’s all.
Hit The North 