Johnny with the roving eyes sits bored upon the
riverside, as
Juliet, his future bride, jumps naked in the water.
Figure eights
and scuba dives, deep down she's blowing suicide. She
squeaks and metamorphosizes movie stars and slaughters.
Johnny's staying serious, his face is kind of frozen,
one
eye is completely closed, and one eye is wide open. It
swivels
from a sunset to a swan. It weeps for every goddamn
thing
that's wrong. When Johnny's holding Juliet, it's like I
hold my
cigarette. I squeeze it, choosing to forget the warning
on the
carton. I flick it from the window ledge and stuff it
on the
waterbed. The black smoke rises overhead, then settles
over
London. I am staying serious, my face is kind of
frozen. One
eye is completely closed, and one eye's staying open.
It
swivels from a sunset to a swan. It weeps for every
goddamn
thing that's wrong. When Johnny's holding Juliet, it's
like he
holds his cigarette. He hangs her from the window
ledge, and
blows her over London. She'd pick a star and pirouette,
she'll
turn a cartwheel on my head. I grit my teeth, put up
with it,
because it's all for fun.
