Eating The FutureElizabeth Hildreth
My kids are in the tuba. Who cares? Why stop humming and blowing into you like a fire? Let's talk for two years about Tomaz Salamun, about how he constructed a devil's food cake from a burned-out sparkler and top hat. God is good. And so are you. And so am I. And Tomaz too. We four, so far afield. We're crying for crackers to get back. Come home, round corner. Mystery Word's stuck. It looks like a bard but it's close to a bird. It sounds like a wish but it may be a war. It feels like a fly but it ate the Future. Don't let it out, snowflake.
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