The leopard attacks the trainer it
Loves, over and over, on every
Page, loves and devours the only one it allows to feed

On the other side of the street, the buildings sit on smoke,
About to lift off—it’s spring!
Cosmonauts and astronauts comfortably in their apartments in armchairs

Bring back the all-girls boarding schools for pedigreed girls
Where, morning and night, girls dressed and undressed.
Luxurious lawns and trees rode to hounds.

The man ejaculates a blood-red rose.
The woman looks on in astonishment.
The sun pours in

The technician squeezes the bulb to tighten the cuff
To take my blood pressure for a second time today
Next to the professional scales I stood on that showed I weighed enough

A Narrator will read the numbers and text aloud starting with this statement:

1. Three spotlighted women stand stage center on an otherwise dark stage. Two of them elegantly dressed in black, the third naked. All are white-haired, in their fifties or older.

The city sleeps with the lights on.
The insomniac wants it to be morning.
The quadruple amputee asks the night nurse what time it is.

I wear a suicide belt I detonate
And make my City of Light 
A coprophagic tomb. 

I turn into the man they photograph.
I think I’ll ask him for his autograph.
He’s older than I am and more distinguished.

You wonder who in the world are the people who actually use stool cards.
They’re the very same scum who sell drugs to little kids in school yards.
The doctor tells you do this, do that.