Parking a silver Bentley Mulsanne in your back pocket . . .
with miles to go before you sleep . . .
the sleep of innocents . . .
picking through a bin at the corner iCandy store . . .
your finger in the pages of Murakami's Strange Library . . .
even more hushed than usual . . .
You have videotaped hours of makeovers . . .
and found yourself nights in the editing room . . .
with frosting on your doctored nose . . .
pockets bulging with parking tickets . . .
posing as Lottery tickets . . .
By the way, your iPhone called in sick . . .
The times? . . . They are indeed a-changing . . .
It's not so much do this . . . do that . . .
It's something else . . .
A new do, perhaps . . .
A reworked scene . . .
Whatever it is . . . will be massaged . . .
like the donor's heart . . .
to answer the questions that have been airdropped . . .
and to be corrected analyzed blue-penciled . . .
and returned . . . for revision . . . later . . . in the month . . .
Wendy Bevan |