Inside the Airport After
Robbing the Pink Coffin
You wiped my neck and face with a shred of white tutu you stole from a large pink coffin. The children are still whispering about the ballerina-lady trapped in the suitcase. I have that suitcase and I have a surprised face.
We need to make it through airport security. Kiss me and do not slip off. Remove me with a dream. We fell asleep watching a commercial for cupcakes. Children are still pointing at my suitcase. We dream.
In the dream I wake up. I wake up in a green tunnel. Louis Althusser is giving a lecture on idealogical state apparatuses. I can hear him as I crawl. I feel like I can crawl as far as I need to. I come to the end of the tunnel and stand up inside a black room with red bulbous lights protruding from the walls. Cotton-red balloons emitting large red light circles. Louis Althusser has finished his lecture and I can hear small children cheering and clapping their small children hands.
Alone is a table. Twenty-eight blue bowls are arranged on the table. A scoop of pink ice-cream resting inside of each one. A scoop for the police. A scoop for the military. A scoop for the prison system. A scoop for the government.
And two scoops for you and two scoops for me.