Beehived

[…] Flo came in with a jingle of keys, swathed in a perfumed mist of hair spray and fresh nail lacquer — every Thursday morning Flo left for the "post office" at eleven A.M. and came back freshly painted and beehived.

He's so bored these days he'd go ten miles to see a dead mule & his new wife, the spun-gold beehived eighty-year-old hussy, speaks in opaque allegories I can never understand […]