-
Helium
- The Kent State University Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
9 H E l I U M Packing my holster loaded with helium, I waddled as if in a diaper, a wad of snuff beneath my tongue. Make it two holsters, each filled with helium, I waddled like a duck in a diaper, sounded like a duck when I inhaled the helium from my leather holsters. six-shooters of helium, I rose above the ground eating horehound candy and sucking on my helium, my orals working sucking, inhaling, candy, helium made me cartoonish. Who eats horehound anymore? Just something else to suck on while I floated in my helium haze, lifted by ballooning holsters. I’m a cowgirl hovering above the horehound ground, leather holsters strapped with a big buckle, helium riding high on my hips. I love the taste of air, draw it deep in my horehound lungs, hold it there, floating higher, lifting my holsters and shooting helium. I can control my rising and my falling depending on the helium I draw from my holsters and hold in my huge, huge lungs. I swallow helium deeper, then squeak it. I am a helium holster holder hovering in a diaper holding horehound candy in my mouth. Floating holsters hold me. What I hold in my holster is invisible, but it floats me. ...