soft may rain fell on the dog and me, a gentle cleansing. the light was amazing. colors were more than themselves, emeralds and earth saturate and fae. then just as soon morningside bunted in bright blank blue and southill draped in miss havishams flannel, complete with silver threads of thunder that rolled west and left what the neighbor called a beautiful day.
Unit of Measure
All can be measured by the standard of the capybara.
Everyone is lesser than or greater than the capybara.
Everything is taller or shorter than the capybara.
Everything is mistaken for a Brazilian dance craze
more or less frequently than the capybara.
Everyone eats greater or fewer watermelons
than the capybara. Everyone eats more or less bark.
Everyone barks more than or less than the capybara,
who also whistles, clicks, grunts, and emits what is known
as his alarm squeal. Everyone is more or less alarmed
than a capybara, who—because his back legs
are longer than his front legs—feels like
he is going downhill at all times.
Everyone is more or less a master of grasses
than the capybara. Or going by the scientific name,
more or less Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris—
or, going by the Greek translation, more or less
water hog. Everyone is more or less
of a fish than the capybara, defined as the outermost realm
of fishdom by the 16th-century Catholic Church.
Everyone is eaten more or less often for Lent than
the capybara. Shredded, spiced, and served over plantains,
everything tastes more or less like pork
than the capybara. Before you decide that you are
greater than or lesser than a capybara, consider
that while the Brazilian capybara breeds only once a year,
the Venezuelan variety mates continuously.
Consider the last time you mated continuously.
Consider the year of your childhood when you had
exactly as many teeth as the capybara—
twenty—and all yours fell out, and all his
kept growing. Consider how his skin stretches
in only one direction. Accept that you are stretchier
than the capybara. Accept that you have foolishly
distributed your eyes, ears, and nostrils
all over your face. Accept that now you will never be able
to sleep underwater. Accept that the fish
will never gather to your capybara body offering
their soft, finned love. One of us, they say, one of us,
but they will not say it to you.
Mail an empty envelope to the Tate Modern in London to be included in
an exhibition in May.
All received mailings will be displayed unopened, and
the audience will be encouraged to look through them.
To make sure your envelope is accepted write all of the following
information clearly on the envelope: Loading Bay 2, TATE MODERN Park Street Bankside London SE1 9TG UNITED KINGDOM (attention of Capucine Perrot Assistant Curator Curatrial Department Contact: +44(0)2074015011) Write this information to the left: Organization: Rhizome Name: (write your name here) Project: NO SOUL FOR SALE, TURBINE HALL 14th-16th May 2010