PUPPET THEATER

Puppet Theater

I had a mother. I no longer have a mother. She walked off the stage of
my mind. My mother was a concept leaping around in my mind, distracting
me, overseeing me. She ushered in sound and language and then she
mesmerized me with her show and then her role was finished. And I am
sitting here without any admonition at all flaying my head or any
reminder or any expression or any approval or disapproval accompanying
me. Life was a stage that the world appeared on. I am at the back of a
dark, empty room, high above the shopping levels, where my mother once
took me to see a puppet theater.