Trance Dance

January 8, 1996 Tissint, Tata

I had an image last night before I was fully asleep. I had an entire fist down a cat’s throat. But the cat was not gagging to get my fist out. The cat was gagging to suck my fist in, and I was at first calm about it but then felt nervous, afraid that I would (all of me) be swallowed by the cat.

Tonight Suzanne looked at me and said, “Dorian, this is a good story for you.” Which I already knew…

At one point I looked at Suzanne, her teeth about to chatter and tears about to explode in her eyes. I asked her to try and hold herself together and then maybe ten minutes later I looked at the black woman in her black wrap sitting across from me against the mud wall alley with tears rolling down her cheeks. I looked to my right and a black woman in her black wrap had it wrapped over her head and she was bent over on her knee and I heard her weeping. Which was hard, actually surprising to hear, with five drums being beaten by old black women around me, chanting and frantic outrageous trance dancing by three women wrapped completely up, face and all, being taken over by some force I’ve never seen before, some fierce energy possessing them, making old, achy, hardly able to move old women throw their arms about, shake their heads, scream, cry, pray, hit walls, fall on the dirt shaking, bubbling at the mouth.