Monday, March 26, 2007


my favorite overdose

Hidden stash: the armpit warms her fingers, when the bad dreams catch me, the problems are great. I’m sorry your mother isn’t here to say all the right things. Francesca wants, Francesca wants, Francesca wants. I work in a sneaker factory for 6 years, steal laces to string in the window, make a cat bed from discarded soles. Hold on a minute, I’ve got to put more money in. They enjoy each other’s fur. I walk in and something‘s been going on. Bring Francesca home! Francesca has to step in, edit a crisis in your life. Crisis brings new opportunities to every one who ordered a tortilla. Many people have come to the US to photograph Francesca’s feet, or her footprints outside the Mexican restaurant. It might have closed by this time; it’s past nine PM. And her adventures begin.

I smoke the sneakers. No one finds out about the carnival until too late. I have to tell you, living in a big house with a certain amount of shock, a certain amount of culture. The silverware runs rampant, gets caught in Francesca’s curls. It is hard: it is very hard. Very Francesca. Part-time work starts falling into place. Her fingernail clippings accumulate on the rug -- she stops the cat from…NO SMOKING. Collect tickets and have them ready at the side service entry. Here’s a song I wrote. Francesca use the side entrance. Each episode has two sections: the electric switch and the waking up slow. There isn’t going to be a next time.


Radish King said...

Oooo, I like this.

Christine said...


Strangely enough, I wrote this a few years ago (I think) on a piece of scrap paper and forgot about it. Then it fell out of a book recently; I decided to tweak it and post it. I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote it.

Radish King said...

I think that's why I like it. I couldn't tell where it was going. It caught me by surprise on every turn.