mmccvi

5 Ways to Move

You verbally acknowledge

nothing, ask “Why do

goth people all look

so sleepy?”  I shudder,

wondering on which side

of the fence you meant

that to be.  The creepy

slide-show has been

such a gas, but we’re

both exhausted and

hankry (as you say,

being both hungry

and cranky).  To

get here, I’d limped

the entire way, half

a block behind you.

Whew!  A San Fran-
cisco taxi-cab oasis 
isn’t a mirage.  
Cab-light on or 
off, it’s always

a gamble.  You

were waving for

miles; refusing,

however, to show

a lick of leg.  Fetish-

wise, that’s how the

cookie always crumbles.

My sigh is just a little too

audible, seems to cook the

spirits of the glazed-over.

“A ratchet, a whisper,”

again, just barely into my

ear—a feather duster,

not a french tickler—

“another ratchet,

another whisper.”