She’s walking down the beach.
She combs her hair with a fish bone.
Then she lights a cigarette
on a burning body.
Hey. She’s gonna light her hair on fire.
It’s scary but I kind of like her.
Let’s see which way she goes.
She makes her way among the corpses
that line the side streets.
She’s got a lunch box made of a head
and a necklace of big toes.
I watch her climb through a window
to meet with other survivors.
And I hear her tell them she’s seen me stalking –
she saw me creeping her for miles and miles.
I say, “Hey. She almost lit her hair on fire.
“It was scary and I kind of like her.
“I’m just glad she’s all right.”
I didn’t run away.
But it wouldn’t have mattered.
Before I could turn around,
her goons held me down.
She crouched over me. Asked me what was my problem.
But I couldn’t answer. Next thing I know she’s
punching the banana.
I say, “Wait. You almost lit your hair on fire.
“You’re scary but I kind of like you.
“Let’s take a walk sometime?”
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