DREAMED I was the guest of one “King Vinnie” at a drafty mansion in which 100-or-so other guests were assembled. Suddenly, the old monarch leaped onto a sofa (a la Tom Cruise), and announced “I’ve decided to take a wife. The only question is WHO to choose.” There was some nervous tittering amongst the guests, who assumed, fairly naturally, that he meant one of them. But then our host leaped back down, threw open the front doors, whistled loudly – and a million wild animals of every variety came bounding in – lions, elephants, giraffes, wolves, etc. We guests, of course, were horrified, and took shelter where we could (one elegant old duchess even scaled the grandfather clock). Things eventually settled down, and we emerged from our hiding-places to see a beaming King Vinnie standing arm-in-arm with an enormous, white wildcat, which he introduced, a little confusingly, as “Queen Vinnie.” Then we all sat down to eat, trying not to stare as the new bride ripped apart the entrees, and lapped up the wine. But marriage can be like that.
UNRELATED news – look for a pair of new humorous poems in volumes 5 and 6 of The Feathertale Review, this spring and fall.
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