Amit kissed me for the first time, at the Tacky Mirage Cafe.
It was mid October, and there was a small batch of
high school kids who came in.
They were on their Homecoming date, so I offered to
let them have our booth.
“That was generous, love,” she said.
We were in town for a mish-mash artist’s and farmer’s market
sort of deal.
Iowa’s so great for those kind of things.
It’s why I was excited to spend the weekend there.
A fall festival, and taking in some local color.
The kid who bought of Amit’s works, I’ll call him Timothy.
He was one of the last of the Milk Carton kids, just
before that ran its course in the late 80’s.
I think about how there’s a family who goes
to Des Moines to get counseling, to deal with the void
of Timothy not in their life.
I think about how I heard about this department store.
It was a tip, the kind only I can pick up on.
My tip was from an album photo. Not the cover, but the back.
I saw the graffiti, and knew that was where someone kept
That’s how this under-the-table community operates.
They make it look like it’s real estate.
Showing property to potential buyers.
The graffiti. They have this mandala.
Think it looks Runic.
Mike. That’s what some guy called her. Claimed
that was her preferred name.
He had some fetish I’m not gonna describe.
While the world was waiting on war during the Berlin Blockade,
he was luring men into his home.
This group, who have Mike in their detention.
It’s a wretched kind of stupid.
You don’t take something from the Archean era, and turn
into a draw.
They think it’s cool. Charge people
to see her.
The human keeper, or husband, he’d been dead
Mike? Well, she’s the last of her kind.
They don’t age, though.
This group – they used Timothy, somehow.
A bogus offer for some work is the typical
Mike still has to eat.
Anyhow, if you’re wondering.
Amit doesn’t know about my freelance work.
Doesn’t know about how I tie up loose ends.
I’m here to stop this little enterprise.
Small confession, though.
The guy at the door will tell me, “No cameras.”
I’ll say, “No problem. It’s better to not leave