Eeksy-Peeksy

augury doggerel

Monday, April 14, 2003

Ruck

Nothing but lungs and tongues, our magic talking offal, barrels of breath punched and expelled from goaheadhitme ribs in full sweaters. One pushes his round breast into my shoulder (too familiar) and asks for English lessons. He wants to know who I am. I couldn't say. Then relief as three girls come in and the masses shift.

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