Boy Laughs And Computer Burns

Monday, April 07, 2003

MARCH 2003
It’s white and it’s a boat. Let’s kill that mountain. Don’t think about zebras. They were working breasts. Climbing the third stair. And supple, rounded breasts for the women. Redhead wants to prance around in her stockings. Sliding over who might do the running. Make sure you drink it like a raccoon. This long straight skirt makes me walk like a penguin. Frilly silk undies, black leather jackets, high heels, garter belts and fishnet stockings. Do I have to cut paper now? It looks like actual human fingers poking through the snow. The time when I accidentally banged my head on the ceiling. The rippling of chest blubber is a good sign. Our fish speaks for itself. The sticks are still burning. She takes off her dress, lays down in the tub and sinks down until she’s totally submerged. People on the phone ask if I’m beating a seagull. You are both the mule and the old man. And we will both be wearing fishnets….and not much else. But not only is she fully dressed, she is still wearing her tights. And the moon dressed as a nurse. I don’t want to discuss my relationship with carrots. If you spot a terrorist arrow, pin it against the wall with your shoulder. He had been tossed several times in his career. Are they carrying a pig? I’ll dig into that thigh every time. If only I had a huge ambulance. The trees are anxious to be involved. We got a knee in the other room.