Much later, devotees of Marcel Duchamp took his bones and laid them end to end to see how far they would go.
Do you know how far they went? I can tell you this much: they didn’t go anywhere nearly as far as all the Japanese women fluffing their bed sheets, traversing the mountainside of Japan in a serpentine row, right before the director says CUT, in Japanese, and then, That’s beautiful, he says, really, just like me, as I fluff the bedsheets, tonight, for someone, and ghosts.
Girls, Guns & Hot Rods:
by Jami Beck