Tuesday, January 31, 2017


I was going to call this 'Why I Want
To Be a Bigamist,' but I couldn't really
find a way into that title. I mean, as I've
heard, restless sperm is one thing, but
this is something else entire : a heart
where a head can be, or a surfboard
that crushes a groin. I'm told, in a
fierce and heavy surf, when flying
loose, they can be as deadly as
missiles. Take off a head, or
crush it, like Mike Cantor's.
It's all too much to handle, one at a
time, in sequence. You see. That's 
why I want bigamy instead. My 
first wife was a black girl from 
Wyanon, North Carolina. She was
great, and then she died when
she fell off a plow. Left me
plenty empty. Then my second
wife was a beauty queen, only 24,
from Peurli, Maine. Man she
could knock-out, and the sexual
gymnastics almost broke my
chicken-neck. She ran off with
some guy named Bolster Hamran.
I don't know where she is. Now
I still have two. Barbara, from
New York; really great. And
Maryann from Catsford, PA.
They get along really well.
No quarrel, and both agree
it's far better this way. Come
tax-time, one  has always to be
left out. They flip for it.

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