The Magnificent Shrimp World of Fergus
Arlene Ang It’s a department
store. The milky
white chocolate lights are spider-
friendly. The smell is Vietnamese shrimp
paste. Here, he first saw Lia purchase
lingerie – it was prickly
around the lace. An impeccable
choice, the way only she can be impeccable
in soft shoes, nylons, milky
gelato top. He calls her his prickly
custard from afar, admires the spider
tattoo on her wrist as she signs for a purchase.
He wants to invite her to a shrimp
dinner at Coq D’Argent because shrimp
for the French preludes something impeccable,
like l’amour. Today her purchase –
a silk chemise – turns his eyes a milky
blue as if he had a spider
on each retina weaving a prickly
trap for a prickly
fruit fly. He shows her a bikini with shrimp
design. They attempt to spider
small talk. He mentions the impeccable
fabric, Lia traces the milky
cut around the hip. To purchase
or not to purchase?
She hesitates. He feels a prickly
hunger thread his lips to her milky
skin. He watches her, like aquarium shrimp.
And how impeccable
this l’amour, this small spider
chasing a bigger spider.
In the end, she decides the purchase:
her nod, as always, impeccable.
Their arms touch, she feels his prickly
hair, calls him shrimp
intimately in her mind. The receipt is milky
as only the moon can be milky through spider
web. This is his shrimp world: a purchase,
a prickly itch, a girl of impeccable tastes.
[from Ambit 196]
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