they're tearing out the floor of my father's house to put in the monument to his living room it's a small one flattened like a headstone or a sandwich and though the work is done by people the supervisor is a chimpanzee he's not back yet everybody is waiting the cone is almost dug and the ice cream is getting warm i pick up a dime off my father's chest of drawers and walk to the drug store lingerie is strung across the aisles baboons howl in the back room at the deep end of an aisle a child sits playing with a small red car a green light goes on above the drug counter a hamburger truck pulls in in front of the flower shop across the street an old man eats roses in the window wearing a superman suit and pancake makeupfrom Cyclone Fence (2007)
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Monument
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