Monday, May 19, 2008


Let’s go out to the store and buy you a bodice Why? Because then we can come back and I can come in and take it off and write it down, “It was then that he removed her bodice” I forgot what she said then because I couldn’t stop thinking of the words ‘removed her bodice’ Oh yes, now I remember she asked me where I left the poet and I said I don’t know he’s around here somewhere the kitchen is always a good bet. None of this was a dream but the fact is I dream now that I miss her but that’s the way dreams go nowadays What’s THIS? she says, grabbing my pants It’s just a dream go back to sleep I say twenty years too late and my bodice, your bodice is in tatters: perhaps even in flames!

I like to blame the poet in the corner, holding what looks like a giant match Oh no it is a viola Sure, like he can play the viola And now he’s messing around with the embers He’s dressed in black He couldn’t be more than twenty And now he’s got that stupid grin.

all artwork, including monsters but not old timey photographs,
® mr. crispy flotilla, 2008

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