The question is, who is going to be Al's running mate? And George W.'s? The question is, Who is going to replace Kathie Lee? The question is, Did you see The Perfect Storm? The book was much better, don't you think? I think. I think Roger Clemens did (did not) throw at Mike Piazza's head. I think Richard Williams did (did not) order Serena to lose to Venus. Did not. I think Al will choose Darva Conger and George W. will choose Elian Gonzalez ("He's young, speaks Spanish--I don't see any downside"). Is that your final answer, ha, ha, ha. I used to look forward to summer.
My problem is that Britney Spears is not going to marry that young man from 'N Sync after all. So I have nothing to do but watch the egrets stand guard at the edge of the marshes, and stare dumbly at the strips of current that flow like gun-gray paint from the creek to the bay. Did you ever see such a day? Did you ever taste such tomatoes! Did you ever hear the one about the minister, the priest and the rabbi? (Why is it that ministers, priests and rabbis get together only in jokes?) Did you ever get that chin tuck? Well, did you ever? What a swell party this is. Are we there yet?
A sluggish layer of air loiters over the sound, which has turned to a noncolor of thick, translucent plastic. The tide rummages with the pebbles. Gulls laugh themselves sick. What's so funny, I'd like to know. I'd like to know who is going to be the last Survivor. I'd like to know who is going to remember last week's aids conference in Africa. I'd like to know who is going to remember Africa. You know? I'm losing my memory. I'd like to try that new Alzheimer's vaccine. Do I like tuna tartar? I forget. Do I like you? I forget. Of course I do. Let's go tubing, sailing, parasailing, assailing. Let's play softball, croquet, tackle football. That launch--how much? That egret--how much? I used to look forward to summer.
If I had a place on the water...If I had a new kitchen...If I had a dog, it would be a chocolate Lab or a golden retriever. If I had a car, it would be a Chrysler PT Cruiser or that cool new Volvo. If I had a baby, it would be a boy or a girl. I must remember to stay out of the sun. I must try Gringo Balboa. Supercharges the blood, juices the brain. But some people may experience side effects, such as scurvy, rickets and leprosy. I'll be sure to consult my doctor. He'll recommend a personal trainer and the Zone diet. Are we there yet?
Am I writing a villanelle? What's a villanelle again? Two lines that alternate and repeat, then come together at the end and mean something. A villanelle is supposed to be elegiac. What's elegiac again? Concupiscent ducks fly in a crazy syntax over powerboats throbbing in the canal. A mole slinks back to his underworld kennel. Succinct, admirable outcast. I paddle down the stream of unconsciousness. I used to look forward to summer.