video box blares, the
sleek, incomprehensible heads
babble away, blonded, tipped,
lipstick-spackled,
charting the daily cacophony,
battering our ears with
all manner of words
how many column-lengths in
the Sunday Business Post, how
many thick-inked pages to
wrap fish with?
the words rise, aromatic,
and fill her mouth, tickling
her throat as they trickle
stomachwards, woman does not
live by bread
but by the words that
enter through: her eyes, her
mouth, her ears, to feast
upon pages torn and tossed, like lettuce,
into a fine salad
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