9787. MY HEADLINE IS A DOUBTING MINUTE

MY HEADLINE IS 

A DOUBTING MINUTE

Somehow I made it to Coconut Grove. The

Smothers Brothers were there; the skinny one

was pretty drunk, or so it seemed to me. This

was a long time ago  -  I sat down to just look

around, and the waiter brought a tray. Right away,

I thought of Procol Harum, and that crazy song

of theirs, but then I confused that one with the

one about the cake melting in the rain. MacArthur 

Park is melting in the dark all the sweet green

icing running down...What the hell was that about?

My mind started running circles around the idea

of temporality and my own very presence. If I sat

here like this, I wondered, could I still be seen

somewhere else? If so, like the physicist guy had

been telling me, wouldn't that wreak havoc with

the legal profession and  -  pretty much  -  do away

with the need for any alibi. 'Well, yeah, I was there,

but I was also there, so who you gonna' believe?

The judge just pounded his gavel and said, 'Please!'