OX

Silently, Babe the Blue Ox stands painted blue,
wrinkles of rippled paintovers. I knew a sales-
lady like that in the Loop, Bunny. Her perfume
smelled like brownies, and her brownies smelled
like perfume. Babe saw no one like her, if she had
been alive, passing by for 30, 60 years. These w-
ere wholesome meaning not urban families. The-
yd already had a good dinner at home and show-
ed up from less than a day's drive away, or wer-
e from some other town where they could get t-
he same and had taken advantage of one of the
typical family-owned road cafes. Babe had noth-
ing to do with advertising meat, no more than P
-aul, anyway. There was no mostly frozen steak
restraunt there at their feet-- only a parking l-
ot and a big antique cage. This was a turist spot
where one could pick ones teeth with pine trees.