I heard the noises coming over
the horizon - louder than a ping,
rising steady. The chickens ran,
the daybed shuddered. I hoped the
two guys over in the other yard
were leaving soon. The problem
is, the ignorant now call this music.
I, in turn, am left emboldened. Like
a chaste wife, I have to swear I've
done it once or twice. So I nod and
wave. 'Your music reminds me of
something,' I say. 'Like the last
time I was sick, or the time my
bladder burst, or when that
rocket ship landed on my face.
Are you getting the gist here?'
It's always the lowliest with the
liveliest swagger - 'Yes, yes,' they
said, 'we get it delivered daily,
just like you.' That was when
I knew they were full of shit.