Near Tina says Vanna
I just would like to state here that hello
is not really what one says to a mulatto
brought up for
murder 1. The albino
judge, face sharp and pinched as a mosquito
had heard the theories of altered libido.
"This is not justice, this is denial,"
I whispered, "a
travesty of denial
much deeper than any muttered hello
can contain." I could tell that the libido
argument was making the poor mulatto
squirm and twitch as though a trained mosquito
had been
sicced on him by that albino.
Everyone called
hizzoner albino
though he had lots of color. More denial,
I fumed, and more of that damn mosquito
obfuscation! Oh don’t mind me, hello!
Clearly I was
the last hope that that mulatto
had, with all this
blather of libido.
He had no more and no less libido
than anyone else there, me, the albino,
or the
DA, Vanna. The mulatto
stared at
Exhibit A in denial.
Was that
shank was how he had said hello
to
Miss Tina, felling her like a mosquito?
Wait! That’s it! In winter, what mosquito,
whether it had a
prodigious libido
or not, could so much as signal hello
anyway? I sent a note to Judge albino
floating the idea of a denial
exonerating the poor mulatto
of all charges. Each of us is mulatto
just as each of us is part mosquito.
Vainly, then, do we sing our denial.
It is no more than frustrated libido
that quickens both the
swarthy albino
and yourself. How low, how low your hello?
Signaling my mulatto of suspect libido,
as low as a mosquito was to that albino,
the motion of denial became just "hello."