LADIES LISP
At the pharmacy, at the counter at the point of transactions at Tuesday at noon a woman, a nurse who is pale, in crisp white is leaning forward across the counter towards a woman, a mother-woman, who is grey-out, un-white, and standing straight un-put, coming undone … and they are speaking their lips. At the pharmacy, facing the lips, the mother-woman is bound to the distant present. She has a bound-babe tucked at her breast. Between the three a girl is spinning. She is flowing out round and round.
…
nurse-woman:
I know about timing and the body. Of the very old and the very very young. I know how to stimulate the flow of blue milk and bring new lips to clasp, for the first time. I know the weight of a sleeping head by nite. I know the shape of a hundred breasts and bellies and backs, and the palms of a thousand hands, I know the pulse beat and the warmth of health, … and the greasy green feel of death. Don’t fear. I know the temperate body and its chills. I know how the two arms hang off, … in mothering, … and how the neck aches with it. Their lips. Your lips. The purses trade. Over time I have seen all shapes and sizes of bags, and members and their red capsules and all manner of the unclasped and clasped. I know the texture and right placement of the fluids of the body. I know what to look for in nappy and the purple pelvic cradle, in the chest what to listen for, and I know how to read the colour of the eyes, of the whites turning yellow and the pupils. the good, of blood of faeces and urine . . . and the bad … Knowing what lies deep in a bodies border, I know how to read the book, that is that which is sound, foreign but welcome, the cry with the lip parts of each opening.
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mother-woman:
… …. … … and that the body eats up all lips …?
…
spinning-girl:
… … … … all nurses. all mothers all ladies have lips.
…
they say these things.
I am going to interrupt here to say. They talk. Which is, which is a widening of lisps at the frontiers of their marrow so to speak. And you are well aware that a hinge always presupposes another perspective far in span than the blank one envisages daily at. There are leaps undertaken and screws unwoven in the convers-ation. The cause is bespoken. While the girl’s eyes are never not still. Till the one time frame that is causing ... this pause. There are as always things unsaid. I’ve mentioned before that at the beginning of flayed hope there is more to look back towards from a long way forward. And the dooring snoring of nincompoops are scallywag’s divide. But. No argument there.
Or here. But in setting a scene there are always surprise peas and pearls and genius's rotating on skewers of tongue. The nursery. The white paint. This is the way through the trees. The small park. The something. Was said there. Never go back. And of characters, there are two women who know the answers to some question or other. The way things are. The way things will be. A library-card. A nursery-card. A pharmacy-card with weights and lengths wrote in. The card for the books. The book for the cards. There is nothing that presupposes like a good book. In this book there is a girl tall enough she lisps that is she hasn’t any mouth. She’s a spinner.
…
spinning-girl:
… … … … with no lips. who. is beautiful. white or grey. I spinnnnnn. her with everything. very very. and striking. and features. meaning they strike me in my face. as I spin round. … around. I look at her. strike strike. black hair. her. strike. shine pulled to the side. strike. doe eyes. her. spin. pale. transparent. blue against something. spin. white. unseen. strike strike. and lipstick. her. spin. that is the pause. her beautiful lips. very. brought so to attention. spin by color and a line that shapes. by volume and texture by red and salmon by pearl and by cherry ... my mother buys her, her pills from her. but refuses her wisdom. I can tell by the shape of her mouth. though the two commiserate about something. something error able. some they do share in. but no. my mother does not have white. my mother does not have lips. but her her she she wears not a motherly uniformity. the nurse-woman’s white is clean. soft. bright-white. she has badges. in gold. with written on. all over her. she has a beautiful cardigan. she has shoes. she is not married. she lives alone. above the shops. I want to eat her. not gobble but swallow her up. to stand next. to watch the outside of the inside of her. and eat her as a lady. just. to spin.
…
woman-nurse:
Or I can talk of a pill, a suppository, a prescription, a balm. Or how my mouth likes toast and tea. I eat like a lady. like a blank page. tomorrow I am stitching up my knickers, friday, and burn’n my lips into my palms while all the time pondering what it takes to prescribe wonder. now having bodies is all a sympathy, then a wonder symphony. watch my lips move. living alone above the pharmacy I am above it. oh to not be a body. oh to spinnnnnnnnn.
…
woman-mother:
… …. … … … and that the body eats up all lips … and little lips eat me
…