January 21, 2009


Second fitting with tutu, sequined crown, pink parasol. Tightrope
across the laboratory. Singing: Les Petits Chanteurs du Mont-Royal.

Small contretemps. Ambulance to the Med Zentrum in Bad Ragaz.
Subject tearing at bandages.

Sits up in bed at last, stares blankly at the Alps. Disconsolate.

Says only “All the kittens are still blind.” Meaning?

No change. Tear vials: one centiliter.

Can she see me behind the two-way mirror?

Subject spends day at Rosenklinik belting out the Volga Boat Song.
Then shyly asks to see “Monsieur Jolie.” God help me.

Subject belligerent, attempts to provoke fisticuffs. Nightdress torn in
brief struggle. Experiment halted till noon.

Must not let on that my feelings are increasingly inappropriate.

Cake flickering with candles on subject’s “birthday.” Trembles wildly,
refuses to make a wish. Cake wheeled away. Repeat Tues-Fri.

Subject will not speak. Working furiously on crayoned “manifesto.”

Manifesto found in the Krankenhaus torn to ribbons. O my soul.

Demonstrators wrap the Institute in banners. Almost pretty. Subject
oblivious, reading Heidi and talking disjointedly about goats and pie.

Police everywhere, but funding doubled! Subject relocated to the
Advanced Laboratories, where we will continue our confidential work.

—Rachel Loden
forthcoming in Dick of the Dead (Ahsahta Press)

Posted by dwaber at January 21, 2009 01:07 PM