There is a woman on TV and I care
about what she’s selling. Pets are
involved, wildlife, maybe the earth.
In any event we’re moments away
from something. A red steam engine
pumps under my sternum, drives me
to a black sand beach where I return
washed-up jellyfish to the water
and at five o’clock drink the sun under
the ocean. This lady, this lady on TV
I am sad with her. I am going to send her
saffron bulbs and tiny cymbals
with instructions on how to play them.
Everything can lead to everyone
doing nothing. I spent too much
on this TV. It’s huge and so
quality. Just look at that picture. Look
at this lady, she’s on the verge of tears.
We’re all on the verge of tears, but look
at hers, racing slalom down her nose.
— J. B. Fredkin