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Alexandra Coman "If you know what's good for you, you'll cut a hole around it right now."

"I was born so much closer to the stars than that latrine. Yeah, you know what I mean. My Heaven's fuzzy green and smells of Vanilla turpentine."
Bangs harder than my head against her cardboard every Thursday.
Round Four. She's got a real name on some discarded paper in the immigration office somewhere. Give her a big hand, she counts sharper than a bancomat.
Escort? Limousine? Death Threats? Check, check, check. Oranges dear?
She burns them in her room at night. He who follows knows. I know. Cut a hole right in the middle and I'll stand by it. Bet your life I top their most wanted list.
If you've got a wall, you've got my picture on it. (speaking of which. "We were dodging shit, back when the world was new, y’know, and random as it was, she gathered some of it, gathered some more, man, and threw it at the wall. Did I say "wall"? I meant "world". She threw it at the world and the world has been dealing with it ever since.")

Bet your life I top their most wanted list. I'm the guy in the back row clapping his hands dry when the APPLAUSE sign ain't flashing. I'm the only one in the red seat who doesn't know the rules. "Just push the button, sir."
See? I'm the only one she needs to say that to. My pride knows no limits. Comments, you say? Complaints? And who're you gonna call? The Decortication Department? "Out of the way, God, it's 'him' we're after!"
Didn't think so.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll cut a hole around it right now."
I wanna go where the real earthquakes are. Pull that bag over my head? Statistics say I will. "And put some icing on it, will you, on the double, thanks ma'am."
I want that girl across the street with the flowers and the belt. My Fair Lilith. My Fair Lilith on Aborigine TV.
Round Four. She makes me wanna want things.

"Could I have your cigarette, sir? Here, have a patch instead. Have a seat.
On your right side we've got .... two short planks!" Clap-clap. "And on our left side we've got .... one long plank!" Clap-clap-clap. There's that woman on my lap again, (has she been here forever or is her haircut really hip?).
I make her wanna want things, want them sharp between my ribs. She took ballet classes for five years. You don't get ankles like that without ballet classes. Without Mr flunkey at your doorstep.

Death threat? Fanta? Spit? Please? She sucks them right out of the box. Pull that bag over my head?
Statistics say she would.
Bet your life she's gonna top your most wanted list. Gonna be more popular than air. Gonna spin right through your ceiling before you even breath it in.
"Just take the fridge, lady!"

Perseverance, my friends. Don't you just wish you were in these shoes I'm having a hard time unbuckling. You're the only ones I get to say that to. My Thursdays, you see, they're all Ash Fridays in disguise. I lean back low when your Zippo lights the Holy Light.
No shit? No shit. Gonna sew my name into my shirt when I stop affording those little badges. Two short planks and one long plank.
"So tell them what the winner gets, Mr Top Hat!"
"The winner gets to walk the long one."
As long as there's enough cardboard to bang against. Just watch me.

© Alexandra Coman 2001

This is Alexandra's second piece for Hackwriters
Here is the first: MILK

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