nulligeniture / by Leslie Seaton

Conducting useless witchcraft
Collecting to myself moths, snails, other weak animals
Returning light back to the moon
Hibernating to wake neither tired nor rested
Mapping land of no man
Making a mound of absence, smoothing and patting it down like cool earth
Peeling off rotted soft layers of onion to the center, a green sprout not edible

"To succeed wrong with wrong; one continuous mistake"


I'm fine with waiting


If there are colors they are:
Gray
The exact wan periwinkle of a crayon
Eggshell and as fragile
Darker gray
The dimmed white of a sheet of paper in a closed notebook
Something that used to be black but it was cheap and you washed it a lot
Muffled twilight inside Zeus's skull
The silver of droplets on a shelf mushroom consuming a tree
The crispy blond of dried plants

The inheritance is already spent so
what is there for me to claim anyway?

For years I thought I read in Nabokov's The Eye
the sentence:
"I myself made me up"
but when I finally read the book again, I couldn't find it

If you give me nothing
I'll take all of it.
No one is better at nothing than me