I, an elegant man with an exaggerated limp, saw you, an elegant woman in a golden trench coat. I, was on my way to work, at Windy City Top Hats, a Gold Coast Boutique in which I, because of my elegant head size, am a hat model. You, were standing on the corner of Clark and Division, drinking something brown out of a clear cup with a pink straw. I, holding a briefcase containing only a squashed loaf of bread, said nothing. You, never looked my way. I, am going to walk there everyday to see you again. You, will find somewhere new to stand and drink. I, will begin losing my marbles, losing my keys, gaining face weight, losing my job, losing the eventual law suit, losing my glasses, getting into frequent car accidents. You, in your elegant little car with back doors that have never been opened, will beautifully rear end me, turn the back of my uninsured car into a metal open mouthed smile. I, will not recognize you through the blur, not get out of my car. You, will pick up your cell phone, and hit one little button. I, will start my car, drive away from the intersection, away from the scene, and onto the beach close to the water until my wheels sink, and I, will limp from my car and throw up on an abandoned sandcastle. You, will tell your friends this story over drinks. I, will tell it to a bored crab, dangling from my still elegant fingers.

SPINETREX and MY ROOM

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