I hope the Buddhists are right. If I’m lucky, next time, I’ll come back as a wife or a ballerina. After all, there must be a difference between pray and prey, a mantra for stilettos. Reincarnation could be something prophetic: purity—maybe next time. Let’s say that shade of cayenne lipstick pales under the bug light. Let’s say the preacher boasts of his sex life: Come to Jeezs-us—say yay-us.

heels clack down the nave—
just one more Hollywood whore
with a heart of gold.

 

Bob Haynes