by Brian McCloskey
If the child’s element is fire, the clashing colours are black and blue. Maybe the baby would like to see the spot. An extra thing of brown gravy. It’s like something. I’d love to run barefoot through your hair. A phenomenon which the scientists could never explain. Or is it just what it’s like to be the only real thing in a thousand worlds? People with guns don’t understand. Hang in there, baby. Our eyes met, our souls danced. There are things best displayed by concealment. Come see our lizards dance. A big box fell to the floor. I have never seen any quicksand. Do you have any stockings? We won’t stop until we have underpants. You made me drop my toad. They dance before they learn there isn’t anything that isn’t music. A magical talking dragon flew down from the moon. I drew a tree with little hearts on it. Three days ago a box of apples arrived. Your glockenspiel has sprung to life. Sock your knocks off. A bridegroom rejoices in his bride. I have no recollection of the horse. Everything goes to sleep. For all curious Americans. This city’s got big buildings! My hair’s green and I’m a tree. Come out to where I am. I dropped a grape.