The Blindfolded Man III

Acting on the belief that anachronisms are talismen, he rode Helvetie’s

old elevator (3 people max) up and down at least three times


Once he got off on the wrong floor


Another time he got off to ask the night porter to uncork a local bottle

(bought down the street at Mosca Vins)


Anachronisms don’t always work




Of course chance plays a part


The following day he visited the Château de Chillon and there was a temporary

exhibit on witch-hunting in the Pays de Vaud


Passing through a forest of names and dates, he scratched his shoulder on an angling



Apparently that was enough

“Welcome to the Vaud,” said the man


Though he was bleeding on his right shoulder, the man ignored it and stuck a needle

into a dry patch of skin just below his navel. Unfortunately it didn’t bleed


“Found it,” said the man


After putting him through some calisthenics on a contraption with a pulley and a noose,

the man and his fellow-thugs decided to forgo the usual wood and straw

and use a guillotine


“Brand spanking new,” said the man


Anachronisms sometimes work when you’d rather they didn’t




“The so-called pseudo-problem of mind/body is still bugging me,” said the man.

“Let me illustrate.”


Before he knew it his head (eyes lolling) disappeared behind the clouds, and his body

(legs like slogging clay) was flopping in the parking lot


[CHATEAU DE CHILLON: 9.00 – 19.00]

R L Swihart currently lives in Long Beach, CA, and teaches high school mathematics in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in various online and print journals, including Barnwood Magazine, Bateau, elimae, Rhino, and 1110. His first selection of poems, The Last Man, was published by Desperando Press in 2012.