The scene opens with you
popping out of the wings
costumed, quixotic,
rarin' to go
to the ends of the earth,
the four corners,
the wherever
to do the thing right this time
and for all time
as scripted, of course,
amanuenses readying their quills
to capture the permutations
and combinations
of an intimacy
that will become
a matter of public record.
You have been feted
and called sexy man.
You are the current placeholder,
your predecessors jettisoned.
It is tomorrow, yes?
The sun has come out.
You have bet your bottom dollar
without a tip sheet.
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| Alcandre and Amanuensis |