Mike Bagwell

Crossover 2: Too Crissed Too Crossed

From The Skypenis Sagas

—I met the director Kid,
  big tarot card of a woman.
  They've got Una penning script too.
  You and her had a thing, right?
—Una? She done hibernating
  in the ketchupy light of her Fast Food Fanatic?
  She done wrinkling up all the birds
  into one black ball of desire and TV actors?
  She done with the red blood cells of orchids?
  I'm saying I doubt it, Ko.
—She chased the storm clouds
  from the windows with her take
  on Agamemnon, a marvel,
  her own mother playing Clytemnestra
  and Clytemnestra’s ghost both.
  Psychosexual romp, it was. Listen,
  stick with me Kid, we’ll make a fortune.
  You might even star in the thing.
—She done crowning the Zohar with her piss?
  She done erasing herself from the book of awe?
—Yes, motherfucker, what did I just say qua storm?
—I don't know Ko, we have our worlds,
  maybe we should stick to them.
—Same as last time, I say it's too late for that.
—Want to hear a story?
—Kid, you know I do.