Size / / /

Who was it that said human

beings never conceptualized

the notion of ghosts

until the first house with two

rooms was built? Freud?

Jung? I no longer remember.

And I'm skeptical of the theory

in general since all manner

of quasi-spooky threats

must have stalked, if not

the twilit bosks of Eden, with

its glib serpents and winged

shadows, then the savannahs

and caves of early Homo diasporus

especially at night. All it took

was imagination to flesh them

out and then collectively,

at the root-meme level, store them

for easy retrieval in some sulcus

of the tribal id.

Hormonally, I bet, it's this

constellation of neurons

that fires up in the crepuscular

murk of the back brain

whenever a strange noise

or glimmer manifests,

transmogrifying vague or inchoate

menace into a universal

Who goes there?

But no one goes there: it's just

neural chatter, the ghost meme,

ancestral shadows or footfalls

in the hallways of the brain.

Ergo, my rejection of the second

room theory—not that I've any plans

soon of giving up my single-room

apartment.




Robert Borski works for a consortium of elves repairing shoes in Stevens Point, Wisconsin. You can read more of his work in our archives.
Current Issue
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
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