The state would make her pee into cups, admit failed dreams, then bring in utility bills from 1937, BUT they wouldn't notice the missing corner of paper, and the lumpy, tired food stamp workers wouldn't ever know what it meant, and so they couldn't take that from her. She'd found love. A French-blue love. The kind of whoosh-wooshing love that would make her feel real pretty and create those old warm and moist environments that might not prove to be so dangerous this time.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Sunday Night Common Sense
In honor of my homegirl Erika Lopez being in town for 3 days and us being almost inseparable for that time; I want to quote from her show: Nothing Left But The Smell:
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