She would close her eyes and balance a dagger on each of her eyelids. The points of the daggers would not go through her eyelids. She would bounce. He cut the heads off hundreds of matches. He found the section of a birthday cake someone had not yet baked and put all those match heads into raw it. It was disgusting--how she ate icecream. She would load the whole thing onto a spoon and put it in her mouth. Then, in her mouth, she would turn the spoon upside down and run it in and out until the icecream had exhausted itself. Barefaced. This was not a time to be wakeful. It was when you should take whatever cobalt bottles you have and hide them in the gutters. She was aguised when we met. She wore layers. I was a posturer, sure. I was an attitudinarian. I never nixed it because I had what might have passed for a taxing idea of government. Here it is: impudence. There was an assembly. Instead of entertaining them, I began my act by begging. I wanted to know which ones of them wore silk undergarments and when. Remove all of them. Walk a jank step someplace to see if you'll develop an infection.
Choked on a rubber bolus. Tranky utterance. Time to get grandmother in a wheelchair and push her through grass. Get her to the end of a pier and then lift up on the gray handles of the wheelchair. Watch children hit their teeth. Figaro. Bink. The house was not longer what it was--it was a hut. In this corner of the hut, I make noodles. In this same corner, I wonder when I will finally follow the directions in a way that will help me to produce a feathered kite. My father and I went to a field to launch the orange rockets we had made. One had a camera in its nose, and we hoped it would take a picture of all the swimming pools in the neighborhood. We were worried the cloth over our heads would get wet in the rain. We were wondering if we would be able to restrict the movements of our necks with aluminum we cut off cans. I found weeds in the gutters along with cobalt blue bottles. I was supposed to use the droppers to put liquid in my eyes, but, instead, I blinded myself blint with a dropper. A heap of bats. A heap of civets.
Since you're bonny, let's play a game of pills. If I hit solid ones in first, then that's what I am. Striped, you are. No--pied. I had been scalded--but for good reason. I had been bit by the adder--but for good reason. I broke a plant in half and rubbed its seepings on my face. It made my face feel tight, and I could no longer express what I might have in an echoing room slicked with unguent. Bloated. Tumified. Blasted in front of his stupid electronics. He has no sense but to make his legs more bending than they should be. Her legs much softer than I had expected. No time to be desolate because we were at the beach. The trick that I had was to melt plastic against her leg. Now, I no longer believe that my behavior had ever been less that what could be drawn on a horseskin. As I rode the horse into the orange pen, the cuff of one of my pant legs caught on one of pen's hinges. The creature threw me into the tree. The tree had rocks on its branches. Someone had put rocks in all the tree's crooks, elbows, and crotches. Someone had balanced rocks on the tops of branches--and all these fell onto me. I saw a bear running across a snowfield. It was pursued by crossbow-holding things on snowmobiles.
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