Friday, January 7, 2011

I have three email accounts and two phones

Coupon Susan wants me to know that something
surprising is happening on her website, she is yelling at me
about vegetables. Thanks Suzy but I have some potatoes
already and they have only just begun to sprout.
And my couch is green. I consider asking her
about what the weather is supposed to be like tomorrow
but she’s not real. Before the show comes back
I am in the kitchen, the window made mirror by night
showing me shocked, robe creeping down shoulder, dry hair
and pale face and the lights of other kitchens
across the street, all I wanted was a cookie. I’m back and
apparently it’s Victoria's secret semi-annual sale,
I’ve got to be there, if not to meet the little girls with big eyes
and no clothes, to buy favorite panties I’ve never seen
and can’t afford. Sorry, I'm sick and respectfully
decline. The way I’m telling my night
you might think I live in some fetish fantasy or democratic
dream (imagination is about three-quarters horror) and I’m sure
there’s some way to say this more in keeping with social
science but the point is it’s dark and so quiet
at night.