stank-o and i goofed off in stores and ate candy melted by texas heat. and as the sun grew lower in the west, my hands grew multicolored with spray paint. makin' shirts with j. cisneros in the backyard. the grass has a hot pink splotch.
i like the tables near the window so the sunlight stretches across soft wooden boards. the soup spoon fits to the contours of my mouth and wild rice soup plays with the tastebuds. sipping hibiscus tea in bright scarlet with a freshly squeezed lemon floating amongst the ice.
matty and sam and i solved yesterday's jumble because we're genius kids.
i can't believe it came out of his mouth. toni morrison is not racist, you rich white boy. lord, i try not to feel jaded by the lack of smarts people have but jesus. cristina told me i'm not white. and that made me happy.
my summer plan: sit on a beach lounge chair in the front yard and squirt passersby with a water hose while drinking some cheeky drink and fanning myself.
currently spinning: swollen members: bring it on ft. moka only