(no subject)
Flypaper, flypaper, make me a match. Walk in from the left and turn your eyes on the commissary. Here there are women and women more. You know them all. In your loft there’s a guarantee. A vagabond girl. She’s coming. She’s on her way. Before she arrives you better clean up. Make the place presentable. It has one floor and one ceiling and one ladder to climb to get to the wide bed. That’s where she’ll be when you make your way through the place of women Think about all you’ll need. A mop and some bags for trash and drop by the store to buy it all before you go through that place where the women are being so loud. But you don’t know about women yet. You’ll have hair. All those girls look the same. Your sister’s there too. She’s happy to see you and you are happy to see her. You won’t realize how strange this is until you get to your loft. The girls from college are there. They’re happy to see you and right away you are making plans you can’t keep. All the prettiest girls that you have sex with them are in the loud women’s space. There are a few men. They’re serving drinks and pastries and other hour eves. The one who had the child sits with her sisters just outside the door to your loft. They’re sitting in a booth. You see the girl who’s had the child and you are overjoyed. You touch her leg and she lets you and smiles and you look to her left and realize that the girl you’re touching isn’t the girl you knew but is instead her daughter. Instead of apologizing you enter your loft and the noise of the women’s place disappears. They’re still there. This is how someone let’s you know that you don’t have to worry about them coming in, seeing what a mess you’ve made The loft has shelves, usually covered in books and trash, but now all that’s gone. A sculptor is exhibiting in your loft and a tall photographer in a black suit is snapping away. You ignore each other. The loft is very clean. It’s a gallery now. It’s your gallery. You are proud.