- the flat stoneware bottle, fitting neatly into the palm of the hand and stoppered with blue glass, that I found in my dream;
- a tablet of paper made from the feathers of great egrets;
- a glass eye;
- a strong round magnet that can be heard to sing softly with a low and continuous note;
- the star-map on the inside of a stone;
- six drops of pheasant blood;
- vials of the water from the seven traditional seas;
- cornflower blue sandals, a souvenir from Basho's travels;
- a rubbing of a stone bearing the name of a god no longer worshipped;
- a bit of mud dropped by a nesting swallow;
- a love spell prepared by a voodoo priest;
- a love spell prepared by a crazy homeless woman;
- the skeletonized remains of a small rabbit;
- twenty-three watercolor crayons, one for each color visible at the top of the trail at Baboon Lakes at three in the afternoon, including the color of wild raspberries;
- a very old postcard whose sender and recipient are both dead;
- a bucket of fresh olives;
- a magic candle that, when lighted, gives the dark shadow of night even when it is day;
- a cologne that smells like wet stone;
- a cologne that smells like fireflies;
- a photograph of a male and extremely ugly faerie, washing its face in dew from a buttercup;
- a papier-mâché model of the Griffith Observatory, to display or to burn or to use as a piñata;
- a bed framed with Vietnamese cinnamon bark;
- one hundred tiny clay pots the circumference of dimes, filled with bright pigments;
- a sheet of postage from a defunct country;
- an audio tape of frog sounds from the Amazon in the eighteenth century, including species now extinct;
- a telephone to speak to yourself the night before;
- the astrological chart of the long-dead concubine of a long-dead emperor;
- seventy-five points;
- a bottle into which nine Catholic and nine Buddhist nuns have spat, as a good luck charm;
- a clay cup imprinted with the fingerprints of Henry James;
- a microscopic portrait of the Marquis de Sade made from fragments of butterfly wings;
- a lock of hair from each of your four maternal great-grandmothers, taken on the eve of her respective eighteenth birthday;
- an ink monkey, as the ancient Chinese sages are said to have possessed;
- the preserved skin of a pirate bearing a tattoo of a naked woman;
- a letter purloined from the underground postal system of a prison;
- a treehouse;
- the preserved pubic lice of Scheherazade;
- a miniature star with miniature planets and asteroids;
- a secret cache of fireworks;
- a raccoon penis bone;
- a prime number of six thousand digits;
- an ancient document in an untranslated script;
- an empty wasps' nest;
- a letter of exoneration from the Queen;
- a chess set carved by an apostate monk;
- a belt cut from the hide of the Minotaur;
- the ill-lit records room from an abandoned state asylum;
- a three-volume treatise on the forms of sexual ecstasy;
- a jar of fog;
- a personal zeppelin;
- a small waterfall down a rock wall and into your personal bathroom sink, for you to wash with;
- a packet of perfect fish scales;
- a newly-deceased person's schedule for the week;
- sandals carved from sandalwood, and a matching codpiece;
- your own skull, taken from the future with a time-scoop;
- sealed autopsy records;
- a necklace of the footprints of a hedgehog, the footprints made in clay and fired in a kiln into beads;
- the address of a witch;
- a pocket watch with movement carved from mastodon bones;
- a railroad to the frontier;
- an envelope of grave dirt from a child Black Plague victim;
- the testimony of every person who has ever had a crush on you;
- a powerful semicolon to use in argument;
- a silk quilt;
- a deep blue-green pigment that can dye anything, including skies, wedding anniversaries, and thoughts;
- a phonograph record of your mother singing;
- plans for a bank heist, including drawings, annotated in German;
- ten vials containing the characteristic smells of the year 2073 in New York City;
- a mature cedar;
- a lasso to bring objects back from your dreams;
- a toothbrush inlaid with uncut sapphires;
- a demon trapped in an emptied eggshell;
- a piece of glass made from lightning-struck sand;
- a piece of ocean-tossed ambergris;
- a ship's lantern;
- a warm and sunny field of opium poppies;
- the figure of Salome dancing, carved in a peach pit;
- a bag for holding pearls, woven from spider web;
- your own dried umbilical cord;
- a pendant in the shape and color of the known universe;
- a hailstone the size of your head;
- rust shavings from an iron lock;
- the address of Death;
- the pineal gland of a prostitute, preserved in brine;
- cuff links made from a meteorite;
- an Australopithecus coprolite;
- a bottle of glowing ink extracted from fireflies;
- a pound of pure sodium;
- a magic spell to make a candle burn backwards;
- underwear made from spun vicuña fibers;
- a loyal yak;
- a pair of kid gloves made for your hands;
- a heretofore-lost episode of The Twilight Zone;
- the ashes of the burned Aztec codices;
- a scar from the excision of regret;
- a new name;
- a safe deposit box to be opened in three years;
- a microcircuit printed on a feather;
- a statue of a Peruvian saint;
- and a human molar from Machu Picchu.
Monday, June 21, 2010
One Hundred Imaginary Gifts for my Lover
Note: the real version of this may be a physical version, with each "gift" written on a separate cigarette rolling paper, and all neatly folded back together into the packet.
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5 comments:
This is among my favorite lists, ever.
Interestingly, the One Hundred Imaginary Gifts would, in reality, be one rather perfect gift, for a lover.
It's really what you get for the man who has everything. <3
this is so super charming and i adore it.
Thanks! I encourage everyone to play with this form - it's a super-fun way to look at the world for a while.
this is one of the best things i've ever read :) did you write it in one go??
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