one syllable

Sometimes, when my ass is shouting the brown shout, the utterance comes out as a barrage of short, staccato syllables (think: human-scale rabbit raisins). It's less a cry and more a series of barks. Sometimes, though, what comes out is more of a polysyllabic moan, a sort of glorp, gloooorrrrrp. Ploop. But every once in a while I'm lucky enough to experience a single, monosyllabic cry-- deep, booming and rather lengthy-- and that's it. The shit is over. It's like the opera singer who holds that note as long as he can: he holds it... and holds it... and holds it... and at the end, when he's completely winded, he collapses and the audience leaps to its feet in a thunderous paroxysm of frenzied adulation.

That's the sort of shit I took this morning. And when I'd finished pushing out my single, enormous log, I heard the raucous hoots and applause of the billions of damned souls in hell. Even the log itself had curled into an ourobouros shape and was tapping its ends together, celebrating its own birth. I sat on the throne, gasping, amazed, and thoroughly pleased with myself.


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