Walt Disney’s Cryonically Frozen Head from Issue 95
I know it’s not true, but maybe it’s what America
deserves: his moustache forever
in climate-controlled suspension,
each whisker like the tentacles of a sea anemone
luring its prey in a frigid green
glycol sea, waiting out the centuries for death’s
promised conquest. His California bunker hums
with subsonic cartoon money and weird science
miles beneath Goofy’s V.I.P. Lounge
where the stainless steel plumbing
and man-size vacuum flask exhale feathery puffs
of icy blue-white vapor. The lab technician twists
a knob and taps another sticky gauge,
so cold, so bored out of her Mickey Mouse skull…
