The Long Game

by Todd Colby and Joanna Penn Cooper

Fridays are always good for me.
On Fridays I could be a grifter because
people trust me on Fridays. Everything
is always right there on my face, like
the flaky piece of a croissant I ate yesterday.

Long stretches of time get away from me

and then I'm in it again. The golden chain 

of forebears, and me in genie pants on a 

palanquin. It's ok, honestly, it's really ok.

When I woke up and got your message, we

were buying tickets for Paris. It was going to

be April, and I was trying to decide if that 

was too cliche. In dreams, begin dreams.

Still waters turn green in the sun.

Is a beautiful day a luxury? I watched it with

a few others from the cheap seats. The sound

was a little distorted, but it was such a refreshing 

change from my old roost under the mesquite trees.

In the old days, we used to hang out in the flesh. 

This is how I remember it, anyway. Someone is always

leaving or getting taken away, that's my statement

of artistic purpose in a nutshell.