IN THIS ONE EVANGELINE

1.     Evangeline as an iconographer was very poor.
1.1   When I say poor, I am referring to the amount of birdbaths in proportion to the amount of regular baths.
2.     Evangeline carries sixteen eyeliner swatches in her left hand and four Januaries are hidden in her bun.
2.1   January here meaning teething. Sixteen here meaning sharpened to fangs.
3.     Light needing not a caretaker nor a mistress I was consistently unemployed and lying on the basement rug.
4.     Evangeline, I say. Evangeline. Get up. The caricatures are back and they’re asking for more pamphlets.
5.     The caricatures are back but not facing back.
5.1   That is, they are faceless haranguing me into fortnights of Hendrick’s and rye cut into squares.
5.2   That is, they went on the scale and downloaded pdfs of birdbaths.
5.3   That is, they were poor but mostly in January.
6.     10:03 am shower the shower curtains for the guests.
6.1   The guests, meaning, Evangeline dons in brunt and techno poncho, in waif and leather pomp oms.
7.     If I say there is a guest, there is, at the very least, a moment of utter peril, no. And that makes three of us.
7.1   For who among us can say they have never eaten a pine needle and not thought about the cloaked one.
8.     Tumeric powder, yeast.
9.     A labyrinth to dry heave in.
10.   Evangeline running with her bright scoliosis toward the sixteen rugs I beat with a phonebook.

10.1          And if I place a phonebook on the alter that it will not drop dead the every name to which I point haphazardly.
11.    Who among us cannot say.
11.1          No really, I mean it.
12.    Everything strikes Evangeline as questionable coercion, speculative dressing gowns.
13.    Dimpled quinine, with her accelerated symphony of lineaged maine coon cats, asymptotic, acrylic painted, Evangeline.
13.1          She does not see it coming.
13.2          Or this.
13.3          Or that.
14.    Evangeline, I say. Your pyre appears to be hard of haptics. It begs a twig, a dram of limoncello.
14.1          That will not do, she says, up to her elbows in pyre. It needs to remain lifelike.
15.    Antifreeze, draino.
16.    Two plastic bags lining a trash bin.
17.    Two twin girls skipping behind glass and I am watching them skip as I skip stones.
17.1          At the glass.
17.2          At the museum.
17.3          In the worst migraine of my two thousand years.
18.    Hey, you, says Evangeline. Where did we say for the funeral?

18.1          By the funeral, she means the apocalypse.
18.2          By the apocalypse, she knows I mean dinner.
19.    Nail trimmings. Petty theft.
20.    Conceptual sculpture and photos online of conceptual sculptures.
21.    She does not see it coming.
22.    Ominous bear print. Decrepit car chase.
23.    Olive oil, coconut oil. Evening primrose, Evangeline.
24.    Butter, Evangeline, prosciutto.
25.    Who among us has not sat on the railing of a bench in Marseille and questioned the opportunistic accountant.
26.    Quip in the earlobes puncture and rungs on the ladder run up and down her flighty mitosis.
26.1          What is, she says, mitosis. But she is watching television.
26.2          Television, as in, my bluish scales falling off.
26.3          I step off to smoke.
27.    Evangeline, lime twine, cortisol.
28.    Ampersand, ampersand, ampersand.
29.    Angelic horned owl, cowlicked bangs, fruit punch, Vogue Magazine.
29.1          Crude in crumpled foam colored tights.

30.    Cam girls.
30.1          By cam girls, I mean the soft “I” in this, tempest, isn’t, within it.
30.2          By tempest, I mean temper.
30.3          By temper, I mean idealism.
31.    She does not see it coming.

return to ISSUE ONE