fr. At The Pulse by Laura Carter In our old museum one man spit on the parquet floor. Another man played Marquee Moon. This would be a cultural story if there weren't a stone in the middle of it. It was in the cash drawer. ~ ~ ~ I had a coat- I wore it in all my dreams- I threw it over me. & those who thought in categories were caught in labyrinths- they wore just sarongs. { airforce joyride }