This is an impov/riff based on Katie Chaple's "Returning Madame Bovary"
"After all, isn't that what we all want:
to be pursed with single-minded urgency?
to have customers, lovers, readers
who are like the man who's been sitting in prison
for ten years with only his mother and blonde cousin for visitors?
To have him reach through the bars
to what's past them-
the female prison guard who lingers,
studies her nails, counts floor tiles,
like she's waiting for something
more than the end of the shift?"
The end of the world - what he wants
or what wants him - till the 5pm bee buzz
blare bursting baby bubbles.
As she escorts him to his suite, with his leg bracelets
clanking, he wonders: is this just a fling - will we last?
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