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Sunday, April 14, 2019
The Elevator Shift in Your Head
responds only to the voiceprintsof your three favorite movie actors
active between 1920 and 1933.
Even if they change. You consider
how much of that time filmwas silent, yet Max Schreckwill get the job done every time
(and Willem Dafoe won’t) so
whatever it is that keepsthe supply of dead thoughtson their way to the basementhas got it goin’ on, babydoll.You contemplate your oneperson fan club’s next it girl
nominations, step outside,are swept away by the crowd.
The Illustrated Sleeping Beauty
You put down the book
(sick of spankings, it seems)
and announce, “I want
“Do you have the money?”, I ask,
pausing my pen in midstrokeof the Queen's handon Beauty's bare buttocks.
“Sure,” you say,
searching for your lost
bookmark,“it'll only be twenty-five
A hand in sweeping motionis much harder to drawthan a pair of wriggling buttocks,
not to mentionthat much less fun.
“Okay, let me get my keys.”
Later that night, afterI've kissed the newyellow rose inside your thigh
time and again,
I turn to a new pagein the sketchbookand begin to draw you,
perfect in sleep.
When the party is over hours later
than expected and your secretaryis the last one left and won’t getout of the swimming pool.
When you happen upon an eight-trackof old radio dramas in the junk
shop but don’t have a player, decide
to buy it anyway. When you don’t
believe what you have is wrong
but you know the police won’tsee it that way. When you hearthe term “also-ran” and the firstthing that comes to mind isyour best friend’s marriage. Whenthat happens even when your best
friend has never been married.When your mama’s air conditioneris set to sixty-eight but the roomnever gets below “oh, hi, Mark.” When
the plumber arrives to dress the deer
but brought the knives he reserves
for working with linoleum. When
the cute waiter asks you the names
of the last three books you read
and you answer “shantih, shantih,
shantih”. When you get up the next
morning and your secretary is
still in the pool, but now she’sbeen joined by the waiter. You pickup your guitar. Today is the dayyou learn how to play “Melancholy Baby”.
Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Cough Syrup, Penumbra, and Lowestoft Chronicle, among others.
Thoughts and Prayers
Selcouth Station Press
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