WEBVTT

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This is the last prose poem,
and then two thereafter.

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This is-- I just had
this title in my head

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for a while, "First
Person Fabulous."

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And so then I had to
concoct a little scenario

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about the first person
and the third person.

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So I ultimately decided
that the first person

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lived underneath the
third person's tongue.

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"First Person Fabulous."

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"First person fumed and fizzed
under a Third person's tongue

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while Third person slumped
at the diner counter,

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talking as usual to no one.

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Third person
thought First person

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was the toilet paper trailing
from third person's shoe.

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The tiara Third person once
wore in a dream to a funeral.

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First person
thought Third person

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was a layer of tar on a
gorgeous pink Nautilus,

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a foot on a fountain, a
tin hiding the macaroons.

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And First person was that
Nautilus, that fountain,

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that pile of macaroons.

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Sometimes First person
broke free on first dates

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with a Second person.

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And then there was the delicious
rush of I this and I that,

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but then no phone call, and
for weeks Third person wouldn't

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let First person near anyone.

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Poor First person,
currently she was

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exiled to the
world of postcards,

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having a lovely time.

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And even then, that
beast of a Third person

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used the implied I just to
drive First person crazy.

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She felt like the television
staring at the remote,

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begging to be turned on.

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She had so many things
she wanted to say.

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If only she could
survive on her own,

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she'd make Third person
choke on herself.

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And when the detectives arrived
and all eyes were finally

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on her, she'd cry out,
I did it, I did it.

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Yes, darlings, it was me."

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[LAUGHTER]