Are They Vampires?
“The fingers of your thoughts are molding your face ceaselessly.” — Charles Reznikoff, poet (1894-1976)
Is this why my face is so haggard? Right now, I’m not thinking, “Yay! I’m taking the kids to swimming lessons!” Honestly, Internet, I’m thinking, “Fuck. They’ll have a fit, scream and kick and hit” (a rhyme, just for you) “and by the time they’re in the pool IN SOMEONE ELSE’S CARE I’ll be exhausted and ready to cry. And they’ll be happy and smiley and ‘Gloop/gloop! went the little green frog one day/gloop/gloop! went the little green frog/Gloop/gloop! went the little green frog one day/and they all went gloop/gloop/glop/BUT WE ALL KNOW FROGS GO WHOOP-LA-DI-DA-DI-DA WHOOP-LA-DI-DA-DI-DA WHOOP-LA-DI-DA-DI-DA/we all know frogs go/WHOOP-LA-DI-DA-DI-DA/they don’t go gloop/gloop/glop.”
Uh, yeah.
They are vampires they drink my blood at night, I know it. More later.
, 
.