the MAN WHO PUTS HIS HANDS OVER HIS EARS WHEN YOU TALK
might as well stuff a fist down your
mouth to keep you from talking.
Now you probably are thinking,
aren't you, admit it, that it was a
whine or complaint because if you
are like him, that's what you think
women do. But lets get this straight:
It was morning and reading the comics
was more important than my words
tho he shoved on in the face that
made no sense to me. Oh, I forgot
to add, ask him, how I have no sense
of humor and while we're at it, I'm
closed minded because I don't believe
an alcoholic 30 year old trying to
adopt a 15 year old juvenile delinquent—
oops, judgmental and horrible again
but that was my opinion and of course
I was shut up fast about that. And when
I said "an escort service" did not mean
a date for the prom, grenades filled the
car. Forget that I've never see anyone
levitate and fly around the room. I
didn't say it couldn't happen, just that I'd
be surprised. I can still feel the tsunami
of those words. But this morning I was
just about to say a woman in ballet
offered to drive me to the metro in the
rain when the clap of his hands shook the
room. Now you listen, since he won't,
I may be skeptical. I may not believe the
CIA should have continued research to
see if they could spy on events about to
happen in ten years with the mind. I
don't know but I know to me words are
magic, the drug, the heroin of morning.
Words are breath, the Eskimos said the
same word for "to breathe" and "to make
a poem" are the same word and when
someone plugs their ears over what I am
saying, all air, breath goes out of Friday
