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i snuck in i snuck in last night through a dirty window to steal back my head. i knew right where it was: a high shelf, ears pressed between Richard Scarry’s Alphabet Book and Cohen-Tannoudji’s Quantum Mechanics (while behind it rained down a whole flock of red and blue sunday school ribbons). with a snot-run nose, encrusted eyes gleaming, it leered down at the headless intruder unrecognizable in an unworn suit. being sightless i could only pound the walls shake the foundations. i felt it tumble and then slip again and again through my clumsy hands while it laughed and jeered. grabbing the unkempt hair i stuffed it in a sack. mouthing unwinded profanities it bubbled and spit, indignant. awash in its own slimy inadequacy (but hidden which, in my family way, was always as easy as TV trays). i might have sympathized for a few seconds before i lost patience just like the others just like the others. i was going to have a talk with it stand it up and ask it what the hell did it think it had done? but having no voice instead i dropped it at the feet of a street-corner santa with a grimy white beard and intoxicated eyes. something for a bad little boy poppa christmas. |
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