—Jack Spicer
It’s too sunny and when I sneeze it’s like
a million acupuncture needles just slid
down into the top of my lungs from the
front of my shoulders, ping ping ping.
Slumdog Millionaire is pretty good (before
award ceremonies). I almost forgot what
this was about – the chandeliers falling,
the ones with the LED piping at the new
Dosa on Fillmore, bold enough to frighten
Tinseltown: thirty-five years of lights.
You rubbed your tusks all over me (and
came back an elephant), made tiretracks
because of the thaw. You had been invad
ed by aliens and then the aliens fell in
love with me, too. It made me love you
more. It always does.
