recourse. Smile graciously to one another as though they were normal. Play children step down and try to be good. Buckles are loosened.

 

        See the gathering for the photo session. Couch lessons in position, smiles and no smiles. Cornershoe holidays made amendable the throes, or weren't there any to begin with?

 

        See the family standing there supporting a theory so righteously singular. Funny glances enhance delirium. Noses crooked are misplaced. But then, it all seems expected. I let the pictures fly to the floor in slow motion, I strained, looking back at the wall, a grin so pervious, red lipstick on my teeth. Backing down I stopped dead.

 

        See the family standing there. See the family explode.

 

        Arms and legs scattered. Faces looked at me knowing expressions, their mouths slightly open. The walls had drippings coming down, staining the carefully cut weave. Looking at the mess, standing there, I felt strong.

 

        Beauty sojourns and time failed me. My wallet was lost. It didn't matter.

 

        See the crushed bodies spilling themselves over the pavement. Laugh.

 

        Conquistador was a boat. Not a very long or big one. But a boat launched for someone to learn to sail. It was blue, with a white stripe across its starboard. Lightened waters and no heavy tides and carpet laid on the bottom of the boat. So clean.

 

        It was anchored on a shoreline near a big house. The house was dark inside, not caging. There was nothing to sense or feel. No vibrations or odd sensations to have to deal with in a proper way. The cornucopia on the table was empty except for one grape, lonely, wasted. It never was eaten. Next to that was a key, I thought it went to the boat. I looked out to the waters, so gentle. I wondered what was on the other side of the giant body of water, which I