by Brian McCloskey
Have you seen my blue spatula? But she was not dead yet. I am a dinosaur who is too confused to plug in a desk lamp. There’s a Chinese person in the kitchen. And bring all tubes to bear. They sat in luminous body stockings in windows lit with a pinkish glow. I was afraid of geese. You must say words as long as there are any. I’d fix it but I don’t know how. Sunshine wears a silver gown. My feet are resilient. I like my slicker. The scene concludes with an erotic disrobing session. I’m better when I move. The Brians piled on for no good reason at all. And works with loving hands. And my heart is a small helicopter. I’m always going to think there’s a better tile in Portugal. I think he kept blaming the horse for everything. Fortunately for all of us, Galileo ate that telescope. The plumber fixes the pipes. My little man’s an idiot. The mushrooms were slippery and strong. We don’t negotiate with elephants. This is still a suitcase. There is no new curtain. Every week she brings me a new hat. Reality is a staircase leading nowhere. I’ll start crushing food in the morning. Pudding is not sexual and I can’t move my neck.