Monday, August 27, 2007

What you want to know I can not say

It is still this season, but everyone wants to push me into the next. The man who claims to be a doctor claims to have my best interests at heart but even an idiot knows that winter follows summer, so he must think I know less than an idiot.

I know this much: when autumn rusts the trees and grasses outside, the season here, in the cafeteria and the day room and our quarters, will remain chrome-bright and stainless. I can resist winter here. That must be worth something.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Steg O'Saurus write: Back in the day, we would meander down to the old tar pit to expel our waste. See, we were raised to believe that the earth was a gift and if we recycled carefully we would not only show our gratitude, we would also be able to keep our little turf clean and tidy. Then, when we ate each other, we would not aave to worry about annoying stomach viruses and strange bacteria. Of course there were some that I could mention, who never left their surroundings clean and just ate and slaugthtered without any thought for the rest of us. (Does this ring any bells, T-Rex?)

August 28, 2007  

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