Playing Second Fiddle, Says The Hammock...

or the story could just as well begin in an ordinary
bottle of formaldehyde. I could be dressed in the
morning newspaper and she could be folded in the
migraine. Its own fence. Some standing, some
sitting. Or try prying frozen animals from the sides
of the ginger snaps, the wishbone, the identical
hat worn at the Kentucky Derby. Go ahead and
waste glue. Store the snot rag in a lovely locket for
safe keeping. Or just listen to a gun tell dirty jokes
out of boredom. Smaller and smaller until all you
hear is the chatter of the neighbors lawn sprinklers.


-Maurice Oliver


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