Peggy: Notes on an Encarn-ceration

I stick around only out of spite for the world. It's done pushed me back, forth, and around all these years. It's prodded me out onto a limb just to watch me dance off a precipice; fool that I am, proud flaming nar-sistuhs. It's told me to take a hike or soak my head a while-- it didn't care. It led me to believe, and then to doubt-- doubting, hating, exploiting, contemptifying; I learned them all from you, indifferent planet!

Now I must be your surrogate to the masses. Each of my hands hypnotizes while cupping a fresh shape o' misery. All of the symbols dipping and changing course all at once compel in a fashion dance, writhing. Heads bob with the undulations of my arms as eyes follow one, then the other, and another, and another, and so on like musical notes striking a bar. My devotees writhe because they watch and dance because they see all of their miseries safely cradled each in a different one of my palms. They cannot take away their eyes.

Notes: a) when I run into them later on, they seem resentful; and b) just because someone is in jail doesn't mean they can't run into folks.