Count Mesmer and the Search Begins, or Why It’s Hip to Be Hypnotized |
Issue 18
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He teaches us how to be zombies. Extras in a low-budget film. Back from the dead, but not really. No time to change our clothes. Don’t think you are the bad guys, he says. Life returns from momentary death. The way moments in time, unquantifiable, leave time wondering where they went. Believe in you before you, he says. Don’t bite the first neck you see. Don’t suck too hard. The key to mimesis unlocks a basement door, where the lemmings that jump off cliffs arise empowered, each with a crossbeam to bear. Hide and seek. Creep into a cave and rub ochre on the walls. Wait, he says. A long time. The vision will come. And you will see that he is It. And then you will know. Zombies must hide.
come on baby light my fire says the condemned witch to the man in the steeple hat |
ROBERT WITMER, now an emeritus professor has taught courses in poetry and short fiction at his home university in Tokyo and also in India. His writing appears in many print and online journals. He has also published three collections of poetry: Finding a Way; Serendipity; Sunrise, in a Rabbit Hole
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