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
