Queen of Everything by Valerie Fox

I went to the Franz Kafka Museum with my mother, in Prague. I wanted to spend quality time in the dark there, with the books and projections, and photos of Kafka’s family and teachers and friends. When you remember a teacher, living or dead, it’s an opportunity to take careful notes. 

Our mother made it up to the second-floor space mainly by using the strength of her arms. Her wiry, white eyebrows wiggled, as she tried to absorb what was going on with the large family tree and in the antiseptic room with the filing cabinets. Each drawer had a label, such as Josef K, Franz, Frau Gruhbach, Frieda, Felice. 

Although I couldn’t spend as much time there in the dark as I had hoped, as my mother got bored, I did manage to get caught up just thinking about those names on the drawers. Gosh, never marry a man named Joe. He’s apt to “go on a long journey” and thrust a dirty teacup in your face. Why didn’t you wash this? What are you, a dog?

In a café holding a silvery fish, later, our turtle-like mother says, he wasn’t very happy, was he. When left holding a fish in a dream, or otherwise, it means you’re worried about how you smell and are probably making a poor impression on friends. A turtle is a kind of animal with an old soul who lives in a proverb. When inventing a religion, be sure to include laser-focused, arch eyes, at least if you want your religion to have a God, a catechism, etc.

That evening in the elevator in the Hotel Michelangelo a little boy says to our mother, you look like a queen. She says, I’m the queen of nothing. He says, you’re the queen of everything. 

Artist’s Statement

I have this goal (superstition) that there should be at least one true thing in everything I write (including poetry and fiction). Maybe more than anything, that’s a reminder to start with something real, as I did with “Queen of Everything.” For more another connection to Kafka: Cafe Irreal.

Valerie Fox is a poet and fiction writer. Her poetry books include The Rorschach Factory, The Glass Book, and Insomniatic. Her stories have appeared in the Best Small Fictions and Best Microfiction series, as well as The Group of Seven Reimagined: Contemporary Stories Inspired by Historic Canadian Paintings. With visual artist Jacklynn Niemiec, Valerie created The Real Sky, a collaborative artists book in an edition of 26 handmade copies. She’s currently making (cutting paper, sewing...) another book, The Failed-Love Factory Auction Catalog, poetry written with Arlene Ang. She’s taught writing at Drexel University (in Philadelphia), including with Writers Room, and at Sophia University (in Tokyo).

 
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