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Bill & Sandra, Marcia

Some pretty nice magazines are spread about the house
when Sandra walks in with her fashionable permanent and
says, "Have you had a look at my new hooters?"  She is, of
course, referring to her tits.  She has this old fashioned habit
of referring to them as if they are creatures from another era
of humanity.  Sometimes Bill sneaks up behind her and snaps
her bra.  Just like old times, he says, not really knowing what
he’s talking about, but Sandra likes it anyway.  "Whoops," she
says, "my pie is burning."  That’s obvious enough.  The kitchen
is full of black smoke.  Bill rushes into the kitchen and urinates.
A sunny stream of urine makes a nice arc through the black,
ends up on the linoleum.  Will have to be cleaned up later.  But
now, now there is other business to attend to.  Marcia is coming
over. Marcia who does not refer to anything, but merely exists
in relation to the world, but in a kind of non-referential way.
Like a fake book on a book shelf full of real books, Marcia 
can do anything she wants.  For instance, sometimes she
illegally downloads music from the internet.  Not real music,
of course, but a series of beeps and buzzing noises that someone
had the temerity to title, "Stroller."  "What a peculiar way to
say you’re sorry," Sandra says to Bill when he gives her an
empty present.  "I thought you would be satisfied with the
decorative wrapping!"  Bill isn’t entirely thoughtful, but
neither is Sandra, which is why they are such a successful 
couple.  In the future Bill and Sandra will buy stock in Advil,
then later dump it at a profit when it comes time for them to
build their home.  "I like the stock market," Bill will say.  "Me
too," Sandra will say.  In a kind of non-referential way, Marcia
will silently roll up their brand new driveway in her new Prius.   
Posted 12/17/10
My roommate just left for the winter so I decided to smoke a cigarette inside, two actually, and write this poem.
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