America Fell in Love with the Explosions Technician
America fell in love with the explosions technician.
The whole world, re: America, must have been panging and yearning for contract spwart. All of us, generating everywhere,
sudsed up late up the bottleneck, spouse in the shimmering blue light. From a country founded on sun-bloodied vistas and
in a hijacked pumpkin, a cinder umbrella was employed in the first realistic appearance.
The first realistic appearance: beneath an enemy bridge connecting Arizona to Terabitha--gasping, America came to notice
the work of the explosions technician and her sponsors. She held the logoed umbrella up, against her work, for everyone.
She was soon sexy in a race car that flew to pieces. Thundering in a forest that even God would have smote. A factory
trowler (dry docked) took about four thousand pounds of undisclosed substance to make a momentary bottom heavy rainbow.
When the explosions technician busied in her hushed, flamboyant way, spools everywhere--always the right spool--the wire
was like a grid of flags in all colors of the American flag and the American interior and the volcano as well. Landscapes
from all fifty-four states embedded in the fine wire helped to put it in perspective: the thirst that developed from the
old Las Vegas exploding in a gust of magnesium.
Linkin Park performed the song Pride (In the Name of Love) by U2 at the Point of Impact, and Madonna sang her new
song on
a distant mountain.
Oh how they loved the explosions technician. The explosions technician fell in love with the cheese maker. Oh how they
hated the cheese maker. It came to be known that the cheese maker was an antibiotic. Now people wanted to squeeze him
and his cheese business to protect themselves. It was a God fearing time. It turned out some people loved the cheese
maker. Oh how the cheese maker lovers hated the explosion technician's yada yadas loved to hate the lovers the haters.
When they explosion technician, or ET, made love with the cheese maker, or CM, it was a real mess.
In Portland Oregon, Henry Mansfield bangs on rocks and stacks them for a living.