Bob King

To the Person Who Keyed My Car Last Night

I. Romance  As you scraped along, my fingers slid from my wife's temples, tucked her hair behind her ears, and trickled over her breasts. Her skin swelled like Braille. We swayed in bed like leaves in grass.

II. Fine Arts  Fog rolled across the street. All the fire hydrants were blue. You approached with a cigarette. Naked.  A tattoo of a dagger on your thigh.. Your keys jingled, once.  "Fuck" was said a lot. We focused on the street lamp for two hours.

III. Horror  My car wore a hockey mask and carried a chainsaw. You keyed him. He came back to life. You keyed him. He came back to life.

IV. Comedy, Black  When I carved my wife's initials in the tree, it did not laugh.

V. Comedy, Slapstick  When I carved my wife's initials in the tree, it fell on me.

INTERMISSION: A humorless car rolls up to the concession stand for popcorn, but is handed an estimate for

$1,100.00.

VI. Fairy Tale  Once upon a time a poor, little car was on her hands and knees scrubbing the street. She was covered with dirt. After the evil villain walked over her, the gallant police officer was able to recover a size 11 foot print from her back. The amorous officer rode door to door hoping to match the print to the villain's slipper.

VII. Shoot‑Em‑Up In strolled Samuel Jackson, one bad mother fucker. In the name of charity and goodwill he drove my car through the valley of darkness. He ran thee down with great vengeance and furious anger as you attempted to poison and destroy my paint job.

VIII. Suspense Thriller Tom Cruise played the zealous trial lawyer. Your affiliations with the mob were exposed. My wife shot you, but your lucky dime was in your breast pocket. My wife fell in love with you. You were jailed when Cruise managed an unprecedented loophole with double indemnity.

IX. Sci‑Fi  A beam of light encapsulated the car. A carbon monolith was left in its place.