Sunday, September 18
HAPPY FOOT SAD FOOT This world is equally home to sleeping dogs and intestinal parasites eyebrow brushes and Congress the Everglades and Supercuts and Russian delis where shopkeepers plunge bare hands into buckets of sardines It belongs to the rotating sign outside the Silver Lake foot clinic that predicts what kind of day you'll have depending on whether Happy Foot or Sad Foot flashes as you drive by To the smell of rubbing alcohol To the erogenous zone behind the ear It belongs to bats trapezoids hot glue guns asthma the butcher's freezer the piano teacher's shoe all our radioactive sites our apple cores our sex dust and strobe lights Every hair you've pulled from your soup belongs on this earth as much as you Any superiority you feel toward horny toads or iceberg lettuce is as narcotic a delusion as the belief that your voice in recordings is not the voice in your mouth (Ruth Madievsky)