"The Famous Last Words of Roald Dahl" - Michael Walker
Strong men turned to one another and said
things like, “I guess this is it Joe,” and “Good-by, everybody, good-by.” And
for the next thirty seconds the whole City held its breath, waiting for the end
to come. ~ Roald Dahl, James and the Giant Peach, p. 126
In 1916 a man at Verdun writes to
his wife concerning his infant daughter shortly before going through the wire.
Not long after, his guts are dis-integrated. As he lay bleeding in the mud he
calls out to Odin. To Andraste. To Satan. To Moloch. Later, the trees grew back
in such a way that the moon would always shine on that spot and the grass grew
between his finger-bones.
G.G. Allin remembers how his
mother’s milk tasted. How the soft warmth of her breast led his infant mouth to
suck. He then curled up into a ball as his lungs were filled with vomit.
Don Hertzfeldt reaches out into
the firmament from a hospital bed. He attempts to describe the smell of dust
and moonlight to his great-grandchildren. Then all of the lights went out.
Ernest Hemingway sits on the edge
of his bed and remembers the first girl he’d ever kissed, in some far off
spring. How the world was new and exciting and that things could never change.
He forgets that grenade he threw in France. He then propelled himself upward
into the empty stars.
Roald Dahl is secretly furious at
his condition. He tells his loved ones that he is not afraid, it’s just that he
will miss them. But inside, he is greedy for life. He squeezes his wife’s hand
as a nurse sticks him with a needle. He shouts “Ow, Fuck” and then quietly
slips into nothing.
Time
unwinds our memory spring,
And
glues us to the spine.
Until
all of the pages fall out.
No comments:
Post a Comment