by popular demand, i am nesting in the hidden treehouse of doom perched atop the tallest tree at the top of a long ridge in the northeastern united states. the sneegles are expected at any moment, and we are ready: armed to the teeth.
aiden is in full detructo mode. there are toys and books all over the living room floor. the first book he destroyed was kathy acker’s empire of the senseless. obviously, he’s not into “po-mo”. the second was tolkein’s silmarillion. he has impeccable taste. that book sucked. currently, he’s communicating his displeasure with 3rd edition ad&d. roy would be proud.
he’s got the cars’s first album blasting, and every so often he’ll stop to bop or tap his toe or break into a full-on dance groove. bostonian new wave is music for destruction. it’s no wonder the mooninites began their invasion in bean town.
yesterday, he hooked us to our harnesses and whip-stung our backs all the way to loews and back. even worse, on the return trip he had us haul cast-iron porch appointments and home agricultural accroutrements: window boxes, potting soil, moss, and plants.
i’ll let debbi tell you about the outdoor furniture for the porch. but the plants!
a menagerie of poisonous hernage, flora, and verdure. we know he expects the sneegles, but he is a consummate tester. last night we dumped our dinner portions into the small latrine hole he affords our cells and subsisted on a salad of tart lichens and bitter steaks carved from the underbellies of cockroaches. our candles were the cooking fires and our chains, the grills.
but i am not sure how long we can hold off from eating the tuck he painstakingly prepares for us each night. just now, he’s asked if i would share a banana with him. i will let him take the first bite.