Madgirl Lovesong #5
To my dearest
Oh! The moon rolls round again…
and crushes…
it crushes me.
My belly twists with the weight of leaden love.
The moonboot footprints of desire.
Oh mountainous dead rock,
Ever without atmosphere,
I tremble at your influence.
I am a flower.
Now go get me some chocolate.
Another Author Interview
(for the fabulously popular Book of Facetious Dribble)
INTERVIEWER: Your book’s meteoric rise to fame is unprecedented and, frankly, a little absurd.
ME (bouncing a little): I know! Isn’t it cool?!
INTERVIEWER: One can only wonder if the decline in education is faster than previously thought. Now, you yourself claim to have done post-graduate work…
ME: Technically, I’m a grad school dropout!
INTERVIEWER: But you say you’ve done some post-graduate studies…
ME: Yep. Working on a Literature MA when I left. I was not kicked out.
INTERVIEWER: Mmm-hmmm. About your title… you know that drivel is spelled “i-V-E-L”, right?
ME: Excuse me?
INTERVIEWER: Drivel, you misspelled “drivel”.
ME: No, no. It’s “dribble”.
INTERVIEWER: Dribble?
ME: Yes! As in “topping dribbled over ice cream”? Or drool.
INTERVIEWER: So… in essence you’re comparing your smartassery with the sweet, holy goodness that is hot fudge.
ME: YES!! Or drool.
INTERVIEWER: Pause, glaring daggers.
ME: Smile, slowly fading.
INTERVIEWER: It’s a good thing you self-published.
ME (in mocking, squeaky voice): It’s a good thing you self-published.
My interviewer sounds exactly the same way, with their hoity toity voice. The nerve. Seriously!
I need to start fantasizing about interviewers. But it would probably end badly.
FADKOG – They ALL have pretensions, that’s what!
Chag – And mine ended well?
Your mocking the interviewer serves him/her right! He/she is obviously a critic. And critics are hypocrites!