The Frizz of My Hair
By Zawmb’yee Nuje
There has been
a maple syrup rain in my dreams
a downpour of sweet premises
a thick and sticky bane
I am soaked by the night,
but my day is dry
with dissertations and speeches
Applause is due me
but I sob in the morning dew
I try to never sleep, but
I see a baby in her arms.
She loves him as do I, and
he drowns in maple syrup rain.
I proclaim the sweetness of the faith
that all must obey, but
he has been my lover
He’s been executed for
the sweetness of the faith.
I am soaked in downpours of blood
frazzled by the night and
cut like a maple tree
used and drained for sweetness
The Drofluo Call Doug a Traitor
Hmm. So Yimiecei told me that the plan was basically the same except that we were not expecting the return of the Gods but the return of the beings who were perceived as gods. She had said, “We are perfecting our knowledge of the science of the gods; we are beginning to understand the apparatus of the gods, the pfayohiqusi, infinitely better than ever before. With this knowledge, our benign rule of the Earth can begin, and we will purge all evil and any imperfection that would continue the troublesome inefficiencies.”
I had said, “Yes, it’s a messy, wasteful world.”
“Um, Fevepo, your Majesty and divine chosen leader of the realm, High Priestess, keeper of the faith, if I may discuss a delicate matter that may be personal to you?”
I was stunned and not sure what to say. I was thinking that theoretically I could have said that no, you may not, but then how would I know what was going on, and I would be worried and anxious continuously if I said something like tell me next week because I’m busy. So I said, “Yes, you may proceed.”
“We have discovered that it was Doug who revealed the existence of the caves to Ziohat. The damihaiz extracted the information from Ziohat. We believe Doug has been revealing too much information to the up-top world, and because of his eokxavexa, his genes obviously are of no value to us. Therefore, he should be executed.”
My impulse was to strangle her to death, but I felt sick, vomiting in a waste paper basket. Then, I cried, knocking over a chair and falling to the floor. I had to scream and the Kutibea appeared.
“Are you alright?” one of the Kutibea asked.
“Yes,” I said, “Call Apacevj and Yenkoi for a formal meeting. Go now.”
“Fevepo, may we help you up?”
“No, Jevkwyi, go!” The crowd departed. Yimiecei lifted me up and I struck her across the face with a backstroke of my fist.
Yimiecei wiped the blood off her face. She said, “Perhaps we should discuss this in more detail in Upper Utd’mbts, if it pleases you Fevepo.”
I sat down at the table and sobbed into my hands. I whispered, “Yes, after I consult with Apacevj.”
The book shelf door slid open and I ran out. Yimiecei followed behind and I stood in front of the books. I turned and screamed, “Get out, get out, get out, get out.”
Her entourage came. They gave her, carefully, her weapons belt back and they all left quietly.