Musical Missed Connections
To My Fellow Coconut
Missed Connections from Austin
We were such good friends. You and I basked in the glory of Whole Foods day after day. We watched as our brethren were taken from us, liquefied or eaten. But we were safe, we were immune, we escaped prejudice. That was before the dark times, before the man in the suspenders. He took us in such unceremonious fashion, clunking us together merrily as he walked toward the prison exit. The only solace we had as we left our prison was that we were being kept in the same paper cell. Later, rustling and our cell is opened and we’re clunked together merrily again and then placed on a metal terrace. We sit there for hours, awaiting our fate knowing the only good omen is the lack of a bludgeoning instrument that comprises our only weakness. Our captors talk and laugh, talk and laugh. One of them takes you and crudely rips all of the hair from you like feathers from a chicken. My captor is kinder, the only wrong being placing me in solitude in the paper cell occasionally. Finally, it looks like we’re about to be returned to each other. We’re in the paper cell again, rustling, bustling. Oh, thank the maker. But no, just when we feel safe together the cell re-opens and you are plucked from it before it closes again and I am left alone, in the dark. I’m writing to you from my captor’s house, and I want you to know I will never give up. Every night I think of you, I sit there thinking of my revenge and rescue of you. Then, the nightmares come and the only thing I hear is one word. One name that echoes and reverberates through my person until my milk curdles… Patsy.
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