THE POET FINDS HIS ACTRESS

"God," he gulped, tearing down his pants," I wanna be the third of your five husbands—the one..."

"Oh! Honey! Yes! You!" She opened in love, in trust, beneath him. "The one who makes the funeral arrangements."


LOOP

"GIVE ME A BEER!" Tom who wants to be a painter said, coming in and pounding his fist on the good wood of the bar.

"It's done man. We're doing it. We're getting the divorce. Two f***ing years. I feel sentient and lean for the first time in a year and ten months.

"Now I need to find me a girl and get down to work."


KARL REMATERIALIZING

Lately, on the street, at the bank, I've been seeing guys who look like Karl—two last week and then, today, another one.

He must be coming home soon.