I am passing room 10 They moved me out of yesterday. . . Maternity case I assume. . . Bedpans full of blood and Kotex and nameless female substances, enough to pollute a continent. . . If someone comes to visit me in my old room he will think I gave birth to a monster and the State Department  is trying to hush it up. . . Music from I am an American. . . An elderly man in the striped pants and cutaway of a diplomat stands on a platform draped with the American flag.A decayed, corseted tenor-brusting out of a Daniel Boone costume- is singing the Star sprangled Banner,accompanied by a full orchestra. He sings with a slight lips. . . THE DIPLOMAT ( reading from a great skroll of ticker tape that keeps growning and tangling around his feet ):” And we categorically deny that any male citizen of the United States of America. . .”

Tenor:”oh thay can you thee. . .” His voice breaks and shoots up to a high falsetto. In the control room the Technician mixes  a bicarbonate of soda and belches into his hands : ” God damned tenor’s a brown artist!” he mutters sourly. “Mike! rumph,” the shouts end in a belch.”Cut that swish fart off the air and give him his purple slip. He’s through as of riight now. . . Put in that sex changed Liz athlete. . . She’s a fulltime tenor at least. . .Costume? How in the fuck should I know? I’m no dress designer swish from the costume department! What’s that? The entire costume department occluded as a security risk? What am I, an octopus? Let’s see . . . How about an Indian routine? Pocahontas or Hia-