in fact
he lives to be remembered
and remember himself
—Steve Carey
Beethoven ate my salad and my quiche. I mean
I don’t remember eating any of it. Is that like Pilates?
I like that scarf or at least the lady wearing it and
I forgot to Rogaine this morning. Satellite dishes
at the academy. Last night was fun, though; drank a lot
of blood and sand after spending an hour with a murderer.
I think it’s because she’s wearing a red jacket. What is it
about dogs low to the ground? Dogs wearing red jackets?
Do you find yourself evacuating the conversation like a
blond in the wind? There is, perhaps, a vague resemblance.
I’m so sorry we missed the concerto for piano in the
green section. Where wouldn’t I wear that scarf?
