“The marriage behaves, the business behaves, so what?”

The marriage behaves, the business behaves, so what?

Fights like eggs boiling, runny

esther, barely set. I say aloud, abraham

is not dandruff, but he litters the top of my head.

I say with purpose, I sweat an insignificant amount of abraham

every day, but I increase my abraham intake every evening,

responsibly. Does this bring to mind my administering

abraham’s teachings into your muscles or under your skin,

for the low, low price of $23.95? It should,

which is a word worth vaporizing over. Anyway,

Jerry says to me, he says, deep down,

our friends want to be inseminated with the truth, and

I hear him, regrettably, on purpose. Nevermind that

I am the instrument without an instrument,

that the masculine approach to conversion is paranoid, sinister.

Genuinely, when the last “t” disturbed my cochlea, it was like

confusing the ring of the egg timer with the ring of the landline—

humiliating, and vicious, like sneezing the very first sneeze.