It was a Friday night a winter California night

& it up against her growing up in the Midwest

                                                  icefishing in Minnesota

meant a California winters night 

wasnt winter

               anymore than silicone breasts were real honest-to-goodness home-grown breasts          

a gas fireplace was a split-wood fireplace hearth and mantle

or a Viagra-sprouted cock was a bemused hard-on

evidently demarcations were necessary on the Left Coast 

                                                             to vie between untruth and truthbetween fabrications and ripenings

she choked on fake

but could swallow real meat

was terribly disconcerted

some Californians didnt seem troubled by the idea of meat grown in petri dishes under electric lights UV-rays or another

anymore than some Californians were untroubled by Adolf Hitlers written affection for the states vanguard Eugenics program

          the Unfit vs. the Fit

  

perhaps not having suckled at a breast

they didnt seem troubled by slabs of manufactured meat or spas to breathe from tanks of oxygen

although requisite she had to concede one might be able to eat meat and never suffer 

killing a living thing -- beyond that first killed meat to set in motion its cloning

                                                                                   sterile radiant and bloodless

no carcass to bleed out or swab up afterwards

“Go West!” said Horace Greeley

she might not have gone far enough West

betrayed by the line of sand and Pacific at the continents end

not far enough West for this round blonde

10ishness,  Friday,  18  12. 09