Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Garnish



















Garnish

Check out these invisible handcuffs. Death
is classically trained. You are free to go
on your own recognizance until the time
of your execution. Every minute is garnish.
The entrée is missing. We live under
an embarassment of stars. Each face
is a living portrait. A work in progress.
Dreams build cantilevered balconies into 
the world. Hold this mirror. So begins
our secret congress. Let’s not meet out
in the open. What do you wish to know?
I promise to pull you out of an earthquake.
Give you first aid. When the ocean recedes,
do not go walking amongst the fish gasping
in its wake. Head for the hills. Stay with me
one more week. Wave goodbye before
slipping into a dark limo filled with techno
and champagne. I hate the crowds so I won’t
be at the premiere with its paparazzi. I’ll be
working on my patents. There is this one
for a new type of glass. When you hold
a hand up on either side, it simulates human
contact. Here, place your fingers like this.
I forgot how warm you are to the touch.    


By Chris Banks    

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