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Well there’s a butt scratcher for you.  Jacko is walled up in the empty larder hungry for nuts, a mating pair of lions prowling outside it wanting to open their mouths and swallow him whole, and a bear over there they invited to dinner and who just might want to eat first and on his own.  Who has the prior claim makes no difference when the monkey is too skinny to eat.  Give him a few days.  Fatten him up one piece of fruit at a time.  Give him time to make a plan, caught as he is between Love and Reuben J Barrabas.  Let him find a way to sing for his supper, get some help.  Murmuring in quiet conversation with his imagination Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrel glassyeyed, adjusted the line of his trajectory into a parabolic arc in order to avoid walking on the inside of a street light.  Have you heard me sing?  Some say I’m too loud.  Walking proudly with the attendants of his imagination the Reverend Hugh E. Love walked toward the ancient bridges of yore majestic in their time.  Why, God eternally curse your soul will you look at that.  I just lost a button.  Did you hear it fall?  About the size of a filbert.  Well, no matter, I threw out more clothes in my time than you ever saw.