Part Tree

I’m drinking a cup of coffee in a small cafe in the centre of Moscow. It’s cold, so I’m wearing fur. I think it’s mink, but it could be fox. The horses come running by, I hear the barking of the dogs in the distance. I have my bronze horn in hand, but I refuse to blow it. I take a sip of my coffee and write an amazing poem on the tablecloth. Sadly, the fierce cold wind blows it away. Lucebert walks by, throws a glass of water in my face, and changes into a baboon.

“You crazy baboon,” I yell but to no avail. I shouldn’t be in the mad jungles of Africa, while my lover is fighting for his saucy life on the front! I should be standing next to him, calling out the Germans and giving Bush the finger. Get more political. Don’t think, just walk. Do it in style. Look fabulous and get your act together. The future is now. You have to want to kill to have that latest mp3-player. PSP, that sort of thing. Take more GHB, boost your performance. Efexor Excell, Risperdal, vitamin shakes and loads of nicotine, that will wake me up. I have to read more books and buy expensive hair products. I need to shine. The baboon ran away. I could go after him or push the escape button. I push the button, change my mind, and run after the baboon. I catch up, write him a cheque ‘for sensual massage’ and wait for Thatcher to show up, so I can look up her skirt.

I’m falling down the rabbit hole again.

Are people out to get you?
Does the TV show you special messages just for you?
Do you think something alien has entered your body?
Do you have supernatural powers?
Do you hear voices?
Can you still feel?
Do you hate other human beings?
Are you often alone?
Can you still remember what you did an hour ago?

All baboons have long dog-like muzzles (cynocephalus = dog-head), close-set eyes, heavy powerful jaws, thick fur except on their muzzle, a short tail and rough spots on their rear-ends, called ischial callosities. These callouses are nerveless, hairless pads of skin which provide for the sitting comfort of the baboon. Baboons cannot mate with rabbits, but are known to eat them on some occasions, mainly the olive baboon, perhaps the most ferocious of all baboons. When two people, or in this case a rabbit and a baboon, are attracted to each other, a virtual explosion of adrenaline-like neurochemicals gush forth. Fireworks explode and we see stars. Phenylethylamine is being spread around like crazy. Their love however, is doomed.

Hush. The weatherman is making an announcement. ‘Monday morning we will experience a morning without sun, without clouds, without rain and the earth will stop spinning for about five seconds. That is all.’

Suddenly I miss Kiki, my old pet frog. Kiki ….what ever happened to you, old pal?