“Deal of the Week” is an updated take on the horoscope column. Bad advice, worse poetry, every Monday.
Mirages man-made map constellations with uncertain spyglasses, imagining horizons. Each thinks a tributary spiraling toward puddles nowhere special, eating sweet lotus like there’s no tomorrow and there might not be, practicing pirouettes behind the blackout curtains, tripping and falling off the stage and busting their lips that puff up get infected ooze green pus for crusty would-be stitched scarred and inflamed and gingerly applying complex elixir balms maybe poison and then develop a rash…..
and then they exhale and realize their faces have been numb the whole time and the stage and curtains were projections, their infected faces fall off because they were never there to begin with. Unthink nightmares older than memories. Swish around with the other mirages and bitch and moan at the pain of regeneration and keeping themselves miserable, that loophole between good senses feeding on the words and strategizing something futile from something endless…
Philly Plain Dealer 