(in memory & gratitude to Liz Strauss)
I got the hiccups in Japan
over an eggplant
on the sofa.
There was a Toast Master in the kitchen
filleting tuna on a cutting board
made from an olive tree.
The dry Martini drinker from next door
scratching his stubble
with the point of a lead pencil.
Underneath the host’s stiletto
you’d have seen an ant
on its last legs.
In the middle of a hiccup
I dropped a bottle of whiskey
on the tail of my cat.
That saved the glass from shattering
all over Japan
and drowning the Emperor in spirit.
It’s the stories you tell yourself
that save your life
from passing by.