ology

Addressing Things, Macrocosmically
By Claudia Dapice

Dear Milky Way Galaxy,

   I am pleased to inform you that for the very first time, I feel
disjointed from the Non-Here. That screams "entity" to me! Haven’t you
always harped on about independence and sedition and the destruction of
misogyny? Do you not insist that I, like that proverbial staple of
Vietnam-era popular culture, Mary Tyler Moore, can make it on my own?

   All of this has reminded me of a far-away time, at the age of five,
when I toted a kewpie doll with me on a bus ride. Despite the fact that
I was safely tucked under mommy’s arm, in utter me-fashion, I desired
the curious Clutch-Rush of the effervescing Even-More. Fellow passengers
turned up their noses at me
disapprovingly, as if to say: "Budding girls should not be invocating
the use of bloody, filthy objects for a sense of self-worth! "
Objects, animate or in motion: it was with them that I filled my cupped hands
to the brim.

   But that’s all in the past. In fact, we ought look back upon it and
chuckle - 'tis a veritable knee-slapper! As you ought remember, I am
disjointed from the Non-Here for the very first time. I’m a top intently
spinning, imperturbable to even the razor-sharpest dagger. No brush
with your sundry brambles, dear Milky Way Galaxy, will ever break me. I
hereby decree: Death to questioning my durability!

    Here I go; off to widdle down the woebegone world in your honor.

Passionately Yours,
The One with Her Cheek in Your Tongue
(for once)

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