What is Kid A?

What is Kid A?  

(Maybe you understand, the feeling of newness,

deconstruction of what you know

I want to take you out of your paradigm.

And place you right in 

the limbo stage between the known and untouched.) 

//

When I grow up, I want to be a cat. 

One that walks down the street in my idleness

 on a day that is no day in specific,

no specific time indicator which will quantify 

my existence into bite size pieces.

 To no avail, 

I transform into a fish, 

a weird fish with fins coming out

 of my spine and bubbles I spit out of my mouth right before I am

turned into fresh sushi by a chef professionally trained to cut fishes. 

 

I suppose only weird fishes get killed. 

 

What is Kid A? I questioned as a fish and a cat simultaneously. 

It is a question which perplexed many fish 

and cats generations before mine.

 I kick and scream in its anger and 

frustration

 that I cannot yet find its true meaning. 

 

Being around weird fishes makes me feel weird.

The fishes with their glaring stare and 

Alluring bubbles. 

The fish that go ‘blob,’ the fish 

that have escaped the water tanks and normal fish.

They are all different 

but fishes they are nonetheless.

 

Normal fishes make everything worse. 

They don’t have the same bubbles as weird fishes like us, 

their fins are normal sized and eyes normal shaped. 

 

Weird fishes are just weird. 

 

The kid in Kid A, kicks and

 screams out of frustration. 

I suppose the proximity of A makes him

claustrophobic. The hyper-sensitive 

soul he is, it is no wonder that the pointy 

spike of A causes him great anxiety. 

 

The A in Kid A on the other hand is indifferent. A textualist,

They perceive themselves as just  A. A 

with no conceived purpose, stuck, nowhere to go. 

A with tippy-toes stretching five feet tall .

They are stuck, in unison, the human qua concept qua letter qua fish 

constructs a poem:

<<effervescence in block>>

Shining effervescence,

the smoke             Charging up

The tube.

Smells converging through

Nostrils,

They rush

Into     The sensory points

Within the nostrils

And        It was smelt.

Smite it rinsed’

The cockerels  fur

And screams

It does    Loudly

I cannot say proudly 

That a good job done unto

    Two gather around the

House     playfully

Amongst the cockerels

Effervescence felt.)

//

I suppose the nonsensical has a certain alluring quality. 

One that draws you in, like the weird fish and kid A.

 I remain in the realm of the imagined to seek comfort from the weird fish.

 

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