Monday, March 03, 2014

Umbrella

Meanwhile, someone is poisoning me through the air duct in my bathroom, yet again. Is there some way to close me off from closing off? When I get produce, they always think I’m cooking for a cooperative house. The cooperative is me. It’s hard to make decisions. When someone says does the weather affect you, that’s a trick question, right? I thought it was a moving truck, but actually it’s here to cut concrete. Maybe this is a metaphor. In Seattle, we don’t need umbrellas—we just drink our tears.

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