Conjure a Bomb!
a round, iron, gun-powder filled, old-school, rag-fused…bomb; sputtering, sparking, and fissing high in the hand of a jitterbugging anarchist.
The anarchist’s girlfriend sways from his other arm. In her free hand she holds a similar but somewhat smaller orb, stylishly black with a neatly braided fuse; it also sputters, sparkles, and fisses.
The effort and interest of the dance is in their hands; holding bombs, feeling the weight and texture, balancing the music’s groove…and each other.
They dance this romantic absurdity on the vasty prairie of Illinois at the reunion of their sorts, the “enfant terribles” of the Arts. The reunion is a gathering to honor artistic types, present and past, who have dropped bombshells into the cultural milieu; usually metaphorically. You are invited to join them at this reunion as they celebrate the opening of The Temporary Museum of “Enfant Terrible” Culture and other events on the prairie.
Conjure your own bombs if you like and join this reunion of anachronistic anarchists next Saturday.
Herb you are a crazy man! Keep enjoying life as the mad bomber of art!
Jaci
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