They Is Us

the organ grinder used to play

O sole Mio just beneath the windows

of our mansion and his monkey tipped

his hat in mock thanks for the penny

that we threw him, although he cavorted

on hollyhocks and crushed petunias in

our Moorish garden, but it’s too late

for giving an artist advice, who

having taken on the guise (gorge

and hackles) of a purebred dalmatian,

is polymorphous perverse now, indeed

always has been.

Phyllis Janowitz

Contents

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1 (#ulink_b4b98cc5-ed71-543f-8a16-e468a8dc337f)

Years pass. There are still thimbles and Unitarians. The world is the same as it has always been, maybe a little worse. It’s a beautiful summer day, kind of, although violent electrical storms are predicted for later – if not that day, then sometime. And the news, too, is much the same: 40 percent of people can’t sleep; a type of bustard believed to be extinct has been found; war continues.

Slawa is still out there, painting the driveway with black glop. Why did he have to wear his white high-heels? The fool, he’s going to ruin them. Now he’s using his knife to open a second gallon of the stuff. Murielle could easily run him over, but he moves out of the way. She is taking Julie to look for a summer job.

Julie wants to help at the old age home her mother manages, but Murielle says no. Her mother prefers her older sister, Tahnee. Tahnee is fourteen. Tahnee is too lazy to work. Murielle doesn’t seem to mind this, even though she is determined that Julie, who is only thirteen, should do something. First she tells Julie to look up the job listings, but there’s nothing Julie is qualified for except maybe at the Blue Booby Club as a cocktail waitress or stripper if she lies about her age.