Off the plank of your twisted backbone

Clobbered in by actual events.

She came with restrictions.  The owner’s manual was written in three languages. Past tense, present tense, and will-there-ever-be-a-future-tense.

She’d like to lift up the floorboards and clear away the grime and the clutter.  Old marriages, rejected championship rings, muted but still very much existent desires to possess.

And maybe the 8mm collections of evidence, of indiscretions and blatant misunderstandings would somehow transform into something beautiful

and reusable.

The manufacturer’s warning:

Beware, herein lies a conviction you cannot overturn.  A point-of-view you can’t begin to discern.  And, though it smells like familiar streets, sounds like cherished beats of your current neighborhood, her doll parts are held together by alienating alloys.

User, beware.  Acknowledge it. Breathe it in. You wish you were that old marriage fastened to rejected championship rings, betting on the day the floorboards come off and let you in on some of the sun.

–yiqi 16 jan 09 7:46 AM

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