3498. BRIBE MY HASSLES AND HOLD MY HEART

BRIBE MY HASSLES

AND HOLD MY HEART

Here's where it goes : good God and

never again. The toy chest holding the

plastic cowboys is overflowing, and your

kid's the one in charge. 'Clean it up!' I

hear a latter-day voice saying. That radio

blaring, it has a tune from 1985. Whoa!

-

I'd just barely arrived when the nick-of-time

was called on me : Rialto spinning madly and

an old movie playing. Nothing like this day and age

at all, and I'd not know from where I came anyway.

I entered through the door marked 'Straw Man Digest'.

-

The stage guy with the wagon was also pushing a

cattle car along. It looked like nothing at all, except

perhaps if Ford or Chevy had made a shit-cart, a

'honey-wagon' as the farmers used to say. All that

glamor, and the lowboys still have to work like hell.

-

Here they brought in the animals and all the midgets.

Little-people, you say? What difference; they still need

lifts, and lizards, and leather and lace. Luminous things

from the leftover list, the pile of clothes in the corner.

I was frenzied and tired. I sat down and dozed off.

Bribe my hassles and hold my heart, while I sleep.