All in Fiction
Think of the librarian busy scanning the pile of dubious erotic fiction for the furtive college student, bored with the afternoon and hungry for the macaroni cheese being guarded by her oven at home
He looks up to where she has bewitched the marbles.
They are all different sizes, and they float,
Above the blanket,
Turning in elliptical orbits,
While she dilligently works.
Serve for yourself and your mother. Or someone else's mother. Or a friend. Or a date.
Everything is so alive.
I will know the names of everyone in my village. I will make eyes at the postman. Sometimes, I will turn up at your house and take you somewhere.
So I found my coat and my invisible net and went after it.