the fog crept by just like carl said it would, on its little feet. we made bets all the way down to trump plaza where yes, they did serve water with donald’s face on the side of it. the best story of the night is too seedy to retell. sometimes something comes along that changes everything else. i look a little harder and see a little more. all of a sudden there are browns and yellows and tans delicate as fogs' feet when there wasn’t any before. recall the day we counted and recounted the many possible color combinations of jellybeans and you fell over in a paroxysm of ebullient joy and collapsing laughter at the sheer and utter myriad-ness of the world. that is how i feel.

so when you said: “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
i said “huh?” “you heard me.” more softly this time.
birds are dropping out of the sky as we speak, their innards twisting with mine to form the Gorgian knot big and fat as the sound of my heart breaking. "this? what?! what is this that we are doing that you don't want to do anymore?!"

panic swells in hiccupy waves all over my body. i start to twitch. it (panic) creeps up and falls down, tumbling over the creviches of your eyes as fake tears. you cry. i punch something. a bag. its filled with leftover halloween candy. bad things happen and they happen some more as i squirt o henry in your face with my closed fist. caramel and chewy white nougat get tangled in your long hair. your long hair that i used to love to brush with a fine-toothed comb so i could hear you quietly crying as i yanked on the snarls. i lick my fingers and give you a sweet, sugary kiss goodbye.

there is a party at my house tonite. its my new house and the party is to celebrate it. i hope you come. and bring that letter you wrote me when you used to like me more than you do now. the one about the life of jean (hans) arp. it started something like this: "a dreamer can make eggs as big as houses dance, bundle up flashes of lightning, and make an enormous mountain dreaming of a navel and anchors, hovering over a poor enfeebled table that looks like the mummy of a goat. what can you do?"