Sunday, June 22, 2008

97.

The Prince – named Paris, for the noble-if-doomed literary reference, and incidentally without his permission – does not know everything. He does know some things. Right and Wrong among them.

Right and Wrong, using pseudonyms today, flip a pen and look at the floor, respectively. Verdict-jaded, they wait the tame and merciful, rehab-lovin’ Paris to disclose their fortunes. Cookie lips. Lotto-number sentences. Fucking monarchs, thinks Wrong. Right agrees, silently.

The courtroom aches of 49% polyester, yellow recycled paper and clockwork.

Everyone’s bored, and besides, Right has a date to get hit by traffic.

The jester wants his venue back.
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2 comments:

  1. Luke BrewsterJune 22, 2008 at 10:24 AM

    Stop being self aware. You--of all people--should be over this by now. Your parenthetical references are like a drag parachute on the drag racer of your quick witted brilliance.

    Rapiers. Not rapiers with flanges.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous PoetJune 22, 2008 at 11:16 AM

    Also, sorry there have been no other comments. These are good.

    ReplyDelete

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