This preview shows page 1. Sign up to view the full content.
Unformatted text preview: "You mean--like plain or milk chocolate?" Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted, I chose. "West African sepia"--and as afterthought, "Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent Hard on the mouthpiece. "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding "DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette." "THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?" "Not altogether. Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused-- Foolishly, madam--by sitting down, has turned My bottom raven black--One moment, madam!"--sensing Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap About my ears--"Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather See for yourself?"...
View Full Document
- Spring '08