A Speaker Assuming Multiple Elations
Next, we try it in Technicolor.
She wears a porch swing. I wear a slamming
door. Ears of corn. Buckets of nails. Held
captive for a whole week in a linen closet.
Or maybe the true confession of a stray
bullet in lukewarm water. A longing to
harness the same horse. "This time I want
to be the doctor", she insist, as if the
stethoscope could be taken seriously. "I
don't care as long as I get to bugger the
vampire in the end", I reply, making sure
the rain coat is the right size. A surgical
procedure as seen on TV. An S&M dungeon
without a sound system. Using my own bullet.
Or maybe the fig leaves are really plastic...
googly-eyed worlds of nearsighted voyeurs...
then wearing nothing but our birthday cards.
Orange juice with the seeds still in it.
A knife spreading cream cheese on rye toast.
Then two weeks later, we receive this urgent
message from a Transylvanian probate lawyer.
