by Carl Santoro
While sipping Earl Grey tea in the tent of Princess Citronella, I could hear the nightime burping of several camels outside trying to settle down. A slight breeze entered in through an opened flap and gently vibrated a piece of paper the Princess was handing me. A dog barked. I turned to look over my shoulder, but no matter. She said the paper had a lovely poem written on it by an aquaintance of hers. It was believed that the poem had the power to hypnotize people. She asked me to read it to her.It must be read slowly, mantra-style. I politely put down my cup and began.
The Market Place
by Jasmine Coriander-Semolina
My head lifted up slowly as I looked up through a gaussian blur of fragrant incense smoke and saw she was crying.
She whisperd that her daughter, Pastina, was last seen walking in a trance in the market and was believed to have walked into a display of all these wheat varieties and disappeared. I could hardly make out what she was saying. Something about the magical power of the poem to make one either find Pastina, or enter the netherworld of where she resides. I felt myself rise up off the carpet, leave the tent and follow the sound of the barking dog...to the Market Place.