Daisy Hildyard



As soon as I left my mother’s body she abandoned me which taught me to listen. I already had fur everywhere and my ears separated, rose and dried in the air which carried everything I needed to hear. Listen. This happened in a rape field.

When you are homeless you have to grow up fast. Cold wind on the wheat shoots and somewhere a bird scarer recalling a gun. My leg is curved for running one way and then another to put off the predator from my sounds trailing away in directions. The words things were hard that winter oversimplify the sounds of the wind blowing snow into the hollows below each clump of grass with little clatterings. Blue stalks sawed the wind blew on closed buds. (Daffodils.) I stayed in my own form and hoped that nobody would hear me except my mother who loved me practically. When she bothered to come back to feed me occasionally. Hare nuggets together my mother in my form licked my fur and I drank warm milk with a loving draining sounds like snuggling is as savage as slaughtering until we shut up.

My mother made me aware of the predators by the way she froze to listen. The predators were spraying inside our home was all over the place. My mother’s milk was rich with fatty lactose and laced with organochloride compounds are sublethal. The predator wanted to meat us. I am sorry that I am a pest. Prey me.

I left home because I didn’t want to be a victim and I wanted to take control of my own life. There is no such thing as youth in the real world. I left so many sounds bobbling around that said to me something is missing when I moved on I looked back into the dimple that had shaped itself around my body and I wasn’t there. I never heard of my mother again. A crackle from the overhead power line sounded like a source of pain. The road sounds like something in the distance which is very moving until the night sounds make it go quiet. Every passing vehicle made a scalp scalp sound so beautiful it kills me. Did you hear the water come out of the trees when the thaw makes everything inside the trunk trickle uncontrollably into my ears. I wanted it to – or else – what was this gap where hare should be? The edges were cold where my extending body hadn’t fit into the form couldn’t contain me.  

The predator made a sound like wow wow. I could hear their wet noses snuffling for me. In another form the predator silenced the vegetation. Sssssshhhhh is the kind of sound you make when you want to spray something to death. You have to protect yourself by being hunted. Fear you understand is an increase in fear. Hear. When you catch the noise you make breathing in silence it sounds like fear. I listened with interest to those who had nothing to say in my language which was made up of the sounds outside which they could hear how my mother’s mother’s mother was toxic which moved down the generations which moved up the food chain. Most cows eat grass. Good boys sometimes deserve food. The predator can’t hear the complication of events on the ground so many different natures if you could ssshh it all with one sound would be counterproductive.


Days getting longer route down the slope where the ground became soggy and then wet and then boggy with reeds on hillocks in the ground that I had to scramble overbalanced on my belly on one of them. A band of water opened out in front of me in which were swimming two tall machines for catching the musical breeze inside its wide and graceful pleat and the inhalation coming in at a higher pitch than the exhalation. The river took care to render each long hair at the eyebrow and every thread of fur trembling with a gentle whirring noise. The water was quivering the whisker while the whisker quivered upon the face of the water or whatever, it is all just lines wobbling on a blank background. The specific sound for each dot in the mud, each hair on the body, and each tiny stone the water waves to. I could hear the river it took grit.

I need to pump a lot of blood to run so fast. My leg is articulated by my knee running out of words. I love the predator because who would I be without the predator who gave me all this massive heart with which to love the blades that circle in towards the hinge where the body leaps away. If the predator hears me he has to kill me because my sounds are only a trailer for the taste of my body which he slash she adores in all directions I hear. I was forced to run before I could walk and I was never very good at walking following my mother whose story I am misdirecting you towards.

Big sounds sprung from the warm shorn hedge. When the spring rains fall over here its perfect impression on all the different things it fell on everything is all that we hear. The shape of the buildings, the vehicles, the roads the trees, each leaf, each mite on every leaf was painted by warm rain in sound. The noise outlined the tulips speak of warmth and wet. Hare’s own drummed ears sound tumescent. Somebody could hear me wanting to not want them to hear me here but a part of me wants it. Don’t tell anyone this, hare gets off on all these different directions. I wanted the predator to want me desperately.

The spring breeze whispered dirty things out there in the wet mud and all the little hairs inside my ears wanted to dance. Then I heard of the rape field for the first time. It was full of hares. Their thumping front feet made a kind of beating sound that you would make to volunteer yourself to be chased, but only if you were not intending to give a warning about the predator, and only if you already knew what I mean. That kind of sound. A whole new noise inside my body. Listen. Let’s hear the damage.

In the dawn light I went after the hares I wanted from a distance to keep a distance from me until one turned to fight. I had to run as fast as he could run or I wouldn’t catch him wanting me. Predator turned prey is just turning sounds like we both loved the chase. That was what it sounded like to me until he flipped me over. Dazed, I staggered to my feet and he hit my face and drew blood which was what we’d both been longing for. All his toes pointed in the same direction where his claws rushed to a lacerating point. Two parallel organs afford the impression of distance. Every time I thought we were nearly there the climax moved. The violence escalated the want rose up the slope. I was not sure whether he knew where it was going. Sometimes I had to box his ears did tend to move. It sounded like when you say no but you mean use your ears. I could hear hare in my mouth when I bit down on the fur. The soaking blood was something intense between us and we were radiant with the chemistry between us was organochloride compounds. We did it all so fast. Let us prey and be preyed upon. Lordosis. Let us pay later. Even when I was fighting to want it. I was on my knees to listen to what things sound like down here where the hunted hunt.

You spend your whole life fighting and it turns out your own mate. When you turn victimhood into an identity you are finished and we are nearly finished when we are nearly there, and here we go again my love is without enduring a fight I could not find the right way to withdraw without choosing a direction and so we had to keep going one way and then another until the land agreed with the troublesome atmosphere we had created. We spent so long fighting it and then we found we wanted it all along. We played power games we were not in control of our hearts got beaten. No sound was wasted. To fight with desire was in nature.

Red blood is natural. Hearts and flowers are natural. Organochloride compound on your bloody legs is perfectly natural. All our ingredients are one hundred per cent natural. Please, transmit to me from your bleeding ear which heard that you found overpowering sexy. Desire for the powerful fucked us over it already. I am an apex predator, wheedling away. When he withdrew from my body I had no choice other than to get my body back because my body said so much about our relationship. It made an important point which I couldn’t hear myself think with my own ears. I was trying to hear somebody else when I sound out who would live in my form of communication interrupted yourself with sounds which make you confused me. I miss you were here. I forget who is in my own race and when I go to sleep I hear the faraway predator inside my own body. I forget what I was racing against the longing for violence is everywhere for other animals which I am separate from my own form where I would have given birth, in time, but before we even began the predator had entered my body inaudibly.

Sublethal is the sound of everything I have ever heard; water coming loose inside the frozen trunk; the web of stars in the firmament being fired at by the bird-scarer exploding over the wheat shoots to protect them from life. Organochloride creates a spasming sound. Haemorrhaging something interesting. Spasming sounds sexy. Sweet dear retching sound for dichloro dideoxy did corrode chlorodeoxy galactopyranoside. Rupture the. It turned cold again. A whole slope of daffodils compelled to agree with one another by the icy breeze. Life forced out the love sound. All our sounds like the vibration of softest tissue. Retch up a part of the thorax. The last word sounds like the end. What you don’t hear will hurt you.