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IF IT’S THE LAST THING YOU DO

By (April 1, 2014) No Comment

Today Trish from Supercuts will give c-section birth. This infant, cut, not classical, will have hair fit for an emperor. He will emerge, euphoric and planned. I hope he is crisp as a radish. Trish said at night not to park behind the building because it gets very dark. When we face the same mirror, my left and her left are equal. She parts my hair. Everything we’ve attempted in our lives reflects when she parts my hair. Europe there in the mirror, style, teaching a boyfriend how to drive, repossession of the forgotten in a cabinet. Infant, sometimes only the honest folks are kept out with padlocks. Infant, make someone explain to you the difference between cupboards and cabinets. Don’t get involved in advising executives. My father was a Secret Service agent. He made a career of enforcement free from recommendation. He goes first. Either he believes in hierarchy or the Old Man of the Mountain. Our house outside the capitol wasn’t too big. An excellent gun was part of his work, and I knew where it must be spending nights in our home. Infant, today you will get your own life. This means grandeur and insignificance in a single mirror. Let people give you advice, but don’t take any of it.

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Jennifer H. Fortin is the author of We Lack in Equipment & Control (H_NGM_N Books, 2013) and Mined Muzzle Velocity (Lowbrow Press, 2011). She lives in Upstate New York. For more, visit jenniferhfortin.com.

 

Androg