a spectacular fashion. Such that my battered
brains get so bubbly that I just can't
help but take it out a little on the world.
So in this way, I am flawed.
It's like that Space Shuttle that blew up.
It was flawed, too.
But humans get these softer flaws, these
fleshy little plump flaws, that one could
almost suck on like a woman's nipple.
But it's not nipple at all. It's not even a
human. When the years
begin to choke the squirrels from my throat
I believe I shall be moved to the window
where I will open it and say something
absolutely very important.