Here: a room coming back on. And another room flickering off. Between them
a dark tennis court the dork vampires love. Wet base. A pygmyified marriage.
A mannequin trapped in the 1970s. Hand on her ex-Texan armed waitress hip.
Chevrolet reflected in the shop glass bowed around retro chandeliers. Frigid
in the window of the lighting supply store. A foil backdrop like disco.
A pair of green stretchy pants. That’s gotta be Elvis. A dead tomato.
“Flies drop dead on sight of frost.” You believe these things. Like a car grill
collecting insects. Attack of the Gullible Seagull. Screaming lives
around the corner. She is a giant squid among petite squid. She hearkens
back to stray cats. Collects blankets for some dogs going to heaven. Plays along.