i just had the sudden urge to run a bath, put all my favourite books into the water and then climb in. would all the ink run? would i come out a purply-blue colour? would i stay that way for long? would i have absorbed all those words though? all those dialogues and all those poetics, have they osmosed their way into me? can i recite joyce carol oates short stories by heart now? are my words lush like a francesca lia block book? do my thoughts sting like an atwood poem? are my conversations reminiscent of elmore leonard dialogue? can i write the body like irving layton now?
or could i? but it would be such a waste, i mean, if it didn’t work. i’d only be left with a bunch of soggy books. and i’d probably be really sad about that.