Fun Puke-- A Response to Lyn Hejinian

The funny thing about reading Hejinian is that literally any sentence in her "stories" could be the ending-- and it would hold, for me, the same meaning for the piece as a whole. However, the way the author crafts these extended, moving paragraphs is still kind of fun to read. It's nice not to have to think so hard about what I'm reading, but instead to just let the sentences carry me spontaneously from one idea to the next, which is how this style of writing seems to work; one sentence, sparking the authors intent for the next sentence, and again the next, repeatedly-- over and over again into one long running paragraph.

Here's a little something I wrote with this approach in mind-- the absence of forethought or revision, it's kind of like word puke.

enjoy?...

Like my contact lenses, the windows are clear. People come from everywhere to see the translucent jellyfish, or more truthfully, to not see them. The ocean tends to drag such things around, whirlpools spiraling out of control in the North Pacific. Trash heaps that sit outside my door will end up in the ground, or maybe in space, someday. While some astronaut is lost, floating in matter, some mother is tired and churning at batter. I went sleepless on the night before last, just to watch the sunset. Like pale children who burn and pick at their skin, we went to the beach in the winter. Like the sand that dances by the hand of the wind, I found myself taken by time and led to my death. His wife sleeps in all black, and this every night, because he smokes cigarettes. Where plantations once were now sits a supermarket with choice meats and cheeses. When sandwiches made my mouth hurt all I ate was the zip lock. And plumbers went to houses just to fixe a clogged up toilet. And at the bottom of everything was a pair of contact lenses, moistly translucent, inside a plastic baggie.