shhhhhhhh

He asked me about the weather. I politely replied, but wished it were a bit cooler. He called me a sadist. I laughed, my ears were red. He folded my fingers back and said (among other squinted things),  "I have no closet. I have no windows." I replied again, but wished it would stay this warm forever, and ever. God bless you man. God bless you man. God bless you man. God bless you. I'll sit here fifteen more minutes to say I'm sorry.

I really must wipe my mouth after each bite of this hamburger. For if I do not, the crumbs will collect, and eventually - oh, most unfortunately! a mass will begin. Notice: A modest mass has two parts. There is a bottom. There is a top. A respectable mass has three parts. There is a bottom. There is a top. And between them, there is a middle. 

INSIDE:

Hello.

This bicycle has no wheels. This bicycle will take me home.

Those birds posed for our picture. Those birds, those birds.

This apple is full of worms. This apple is full of worms!

These ears are not mine. These ears cup and coddle.

I know who you are. You tell me so.

I saw the book, but I didn't think it was anything. So I kept chewing my gum and I kept on up the stairs. I kept going to where I thought I was going, and I kept thinking about it. I thought about it one more time. Then I thought about it again, but this time it was an unplanned thought. And once more I happened to think about it while I was purposely making plans with other thoughts. So I went back to the book. It wasn't anything.

I hope my teeth are really teeth and not just soft soft corn kernels.

I really must wipe my mouth after each bite of this hamburger.

These animals are sleeping. These animals are dying. These animals are dead. Do not be upset. Everything is OK. I tucked them in. Folded everything tightly. Corners were not corners. They were rivets. I'm sure you've seen it. The way I cover my mouth before I fall asleep. Because if you could see me smiling, you'd know I was faking. So I slipped all of our scissors under the mattress. Now you'll always be first. Sleeping while I'm still smiling.

ssssilly

I live with Kevin McKay.

And sometimes I wonder if I close my eyes hard enough, do you feel drowsy? And if I ran faster than I know I can, would you sleep more soundly? But sometimes I feel open and not so shuttered, and then I know you're thinking about it, too. Buttered flies.