Still Life by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Still Life
Page 192
Scene continues: The Sock Tribunal unfurls a scroll woven from recycled concert wristbands and ancient footnotes.
Sock Judge: By decree of the Hosiery High Council, all participants must now present their sacred offering. Bonus points for irony.
Cortez, producing a TED Talk clicker: I offer a PowerPoint titled “Conquest as Self-Care: Colonize Your Inner Saboteur.” Slide one: “Why Empathy is for the Weak.”
Abraham, pulling out a trembling goat plushie: I offer this symbolic ram. It squeaks when squeezed and reminds me of my unresolved father issues.
Dylan, blowing into a kazoo shaped like a burning bush: I offer riddles wrapped in riddles, dipped in vague references. Also, this napkin I scribbled on during a séance with Allen Ginsberg.
Neil Young, strumming a chord that sounds like heartbreak and maple syrup: I offer a dream where the altar was a diner, and Cortez was the fry cook who burned the hash browns of history.
Suddenly, the altar begins to levitate, powered by interpretive dance and passive-aggressive chanting.
Sock Judge, to the sky: We summon the Archsock; keeper of lint, guardian of forgotten pairs.