Reverse Phoenix
Michael Ives

Between two species of pleasure the connoisseur of pleasures discovers a layer of ash. He tastes the ash. Thinking it another kind of pleasure, he eats of the ash and forthwith he chokes upon it, flailing about and upsetting his candle and table in a spastic search for water. He writhes on the floor choking as his house and he are consumed by fire and reduced, in the minds of his friends who come to pick through his charred effects, to a smoldering memory between his search for new pleasures and his recent demise.

But since the search for pleasures is pleasure itself, and personal demise the vestibule to deepest pleasure, two species of pleasure will once again be separated -- as any two things: opposites, complements, twins, enemies, times -- by a silent, impassive layer of ash.

1996 © 2004