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About May Pen

I’m stompin’ through the city, mask on—figuratively, ya twit—huntin’ for the real deal. Not some poser actin’ all fancy. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I spot her—red lips, heels clickin’, like Satine struttin’ out that diamond glow. Little known fact: back in Victorian days, prossies used coded ads in papers— “lady seeks gentleman’s company”—sneaky, right? Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how clever they were.

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By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. But I can’t stop thinking about the day. The traffic, the market, the goat, and the choir. It’s wild how one day can be so full of surprises. I plop down on my couch, grab a cold drink, and just laugh.

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