My body lives on the East Coast but my spiritual clock is set to
Pacific Time. It's only after midnight that the poetry comes out. Very late at night I'm inclined to ponder all the imponderables, to fill my brain to overflowing with new ideas and epiphanies, to get so lost in a historical detail it comes to life for me.
Found this very late the other night and want to ask Electrema a thousand things.
How did you pick your name, Electrema? Are you singing the body electric? Or perhaps you see yourself as Electra with an even more extreme Daddy fetish? Or did you see the word in an appliance ad, and adapt it to your use?
That hair. That profile. Before you were Electrema dancing in the spotlight were you Bessie Schwartzman slicing cheese in the deli? Or perhaps you were a rich girl going through her Paris Hilton phase and doing whatever she can to make Daddy mad.
What is your art, Electrema? Interpretative modern dancing, a la Isadora Duncan, performed in the voluptuous salons of wealthy patrons of the arts? Or did that leotard get stripped off backstage at a 2nd Avenue burlesque hall for a few extra bucks?
Who are you, Electrema? What are your dreams? Have you ever suspected that one day people will find you quaint and sweet in your leotard, and not the sexual radical you are to your contemporaries?
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