Porous Tomorrow

Porous Tomorrow You wake up and for the first time in you life it is tomorrow. Around you is green. Moss and lichen covered words are scattered in the tall grass, and fragments of letters are stuck between the branches above you. As you move ahead you cannot avoid stepping on unfinished sentences and fragments of broken grammar. They all have different textures and densities. With the soles of your feet you register sponginess, rusty surfaces, slippery, hollow, firm consistencies, rigid, soggy, crackling. They all give off a sour smell of fermentation in the morning sun. You notice other people; people with fur, people with snouts, some have hooves and others wet noses. They sing to each other. One person flies above you, elegantly, with black thin fleshy wings and a furry head. Another person is near the ground on four clawed legs, scaly with innocent, glossy eyes. They sing in unison the song of welcoming you here in tomorrow. Beyond the horizon lies the City. It breathes deeply and heavily. Its veins are swollen and its edges are fading. As you enter, you feel how the blood of the City pulsates with wild and high-pitched energy. On the pavement is furniture. Modernist, Baroque, pre-Byzantine, you don't know all the names, but you have a seat in each of the chairs. They ooze with prudence and vanity. You give them no further attention. They will have to sort out their own mess. The park is full of fruit trees, berries, ginseng, garlic, nettles and ginger. You stuff your mouth, then your hat, then your pockets. You find a willow tree and fetch a basket from the branches. Now you can gather enough for winter. Autumn arrives before you know it. Yellow and brown around you. You make a fire and sing to your neighbours. You sing of yesterday, of heartache, of hurt, ownership and jalousie. You sing of being small, of squeezing yourself into the size of a person-body. It sends shivers down your neighbours’ spines to think of yesterday. You remind them it is only just a story. Your paws are warm and your heart is the size of the world. Your eyelids are heavy and you wonder what comes after tomorrow. Before you fall asleep you whisper I – You Love