Minority Assignment #8

Minority thrashes its long tail against the shore, making its mating call. A minority canyon with minority canon. The inmate sits silently, strapped to a polygraph. Hiccup, sigh, piss, yawn. Minority defied, minority bent. I shuffled a puck up toward minority. Slingshot, slipshod, crockpot space pod. The bull's-eye wobbles. I paddle the ping against the pong. I saddle the alien with cheer. What have you done with my minority wife? One hand up her skirt, the other thumbing her lips-I hear your back-room minority sips. An apple cored of essential minority is ripe for baking, basting, and licking. Private tongue, public authority. She's gagged with minority in a majority coatroom. Into the vast, nightly minority, counting crickets on curtains and cots. Digging minority on minority plots. Some call it a pawn-shop hock. Fermented soybeans, clotted white honey. Each time we stop to look for minority, it takes up time and we lose money.



*Published in American Letters & Commentary