Names are lost, names as far as lineages, names I know
from memory because I knew the person whose name's
lost soon and must remain nameless here for reasons
aimed at avoiding sentimentality. There is a braided woman
asleep beneath her off white knitted burqa like a
hungover bride at a barbecue. Little does she know
her future son will be her last and his first name will
be her last, her maiden name, Lancaster. Buddha
beads the color of flesh crackle on her brown wrist.
This is Mississippi and the golden asps stick out their
tongues black. She has dyed her hair red and fashions
freckles out of cigarette scars. Her groom is inattentive.
He has scratches on his wrist and knuckles from last
night's fight. Downtown Liquor closed 15 minutes
early and the clerk was tallying the drawer when
McNally's fist burst through the particle board door.
When he got back to the honeymoon hotel, his brandy
glass was shattered in the stainless steel sink. Eleanor,
let me tell you a story, he said. And she was crying
because I told her to. Because she knew I didn't know her.
Because if I took away her name she'd be liable to disappear.
(Shakespeare & Gertrude Stein.) (Roses & everything.) Rust
on equipment left too long in the rain and sun. The Mennonites
are calling asking what all the hullabaloo is and why
are our lightweight lacy bonnets blowin’ in the wind. And
I don't like the look of that bologna stuff.
This is where
we are going and I don't care. A beach lake with six trees.
Tarot practice on Stephanie's red chest. Profile of the
Knave of Pentacles. Flash cards. Wheat fields. Really,
I can't fathom why inanimate objects don't try to move.
