the girl i was seeing was stand offish. she never let me pay or her drinks or food. she thinks i’m bitter. she has thick thighs and big feet. i can’t take a woman to bed who has larger feet than i have.
d was tormenting an assistant. he talks like how employees do when they are working.
i got up at 3 pm. it’s 3:30. i should take my ant anxiety medication at 6. i don’t want to get another one of those predictable headaches.
the mother dresses like a grandmother. she looks like a grandfather. she’s blunt. the kid demonstrates five times how light the chair is. he sits down. she doesn’t care.
you should spend the night with your dad, she said. and the next night with the gallagers. where are you going saturday? where do you learn all these things. when did he tell you all these things? do you think your teacher is really sick or does he need a break from you?
in the movie i saw last night the black man’s suffering is not equal to the white man’s suffering.
the french woman looks dour. i don’t think she gets american humor.
the american father arrives. he’s a thin winsome man. he has the same black converse sneakers his french wife has. he has a long thin beard.
even though the french mother can have any man she wants she has to choose one to have a family with.
they have a place to meet. they have a home. they have a home land and a home town.
the american father keeps touching his boy on the head and kissing it. he goes to his wife to say what he has to say and says kind words to the small daughter. the wife is extremely beautiful. i can see her more easily in an aristocratic setting than in her middle class existence.
i call sprint to restore service.
i have an ocular migraine.
two heroin addict clowns entertain the children. i’ve seen them on the community channel blowing balloon animals with a huge member.
the mothers are french. they speak french to each other.
they instruct themselves and the children:grab that table, grab that chair, grab that child.
the beautiful modest mother is french. she’s married to the ordinary american man. her son speaks to her in english. she talks to the french women in french. her children are american. they were born in america.
the woman clown sings. she’s gross and brazen. do you guys know your vowels, she screeches. they work up the kids. the mothers look vacant and morose.
a,e,i,o,u the woman clown sings. she makes a fart sound in the mic. she has a big pink bow on her head.
it’s the afternoon, a boy said.
i’m glad you know where you are in the space continuum, the guitarist clown said.
do you guys know what a poem is, said the guitarist clown.
it’s a sentence that rhymes, a boy said.

i want to look at the french woman for succor. life can’t be easy for her. she is too beautiful to be real and  happy but i feel it would be unkind to stare. i have already looked at her.
a woman in an apron is  looking at what is happening. i think she is the proprietor.