At 5 a.m., I am in bed with a cast of dozens. We are trying to work through things that happened decades ago.

Remember, back in the seventies, when you were a bridesmaid, when you had to wear that sheer, floppy, hat.

That hat is me. You forgot about me. Come find me. Pay attention to me.

You owe me money.

You owe me an explanation.

I paid my bills and was rather surprised I still had money left over. Then I remembered my age, my triumphs, my tenacity and the luck.
I was then no longer surprised.
I was ecstatic.

This is going to be hard. I’m not going to get this right.
Maybe I’m not supposed to.

A very mean bunny rabbit gave me a whole bucket of its poop. The pellet-sized poop, you know. Tried to convince me it was a special chocolate from Vienna.

Ha! I knew this rabbit. This was not a funny bunny. Or a wily one. This one was just mean. And went through all the trouble of decorating the box with elaborate gift wrapping and bows. I opened the box, without feeling any hope. Just another shenanigan of this fucking rabbit.

They looked like chocolates. But I still had my sense of smell. I smelled shit.

But I wanted to be 100 percent sure. So I taste-tested. Why would I do such a thing?! I didn’t want the rabbit to see my disgust. I wanted total composure. I managed somehow, to chew a few of those pellet-sized shits. I ate about eleven of them before I was fully satisfied the rabbit that I had not been irked by his deed.

But when I got home I cried. Fuckin’ Bunny! I’ll make you pay for this!

But in the end I just decided to avoid him, crossing the street to do so.

Head north, said my friend, who pointed toward the hill whose trees blossomed yellow and showered petals. I followed his directions. I came back, however, a short time later, back to him, sneezing, wheezing, coughing, eyes watering.

He offered me Kleenex. I blew my nose. When I handed him the wet tissue he ran toward the same hill he’d directed me to. The yellow petals showered him.

Was my friend going up the hill to punish himself? Or was it to show me that he was immune to what made me sneeze, wheeze, cough and cry?

Red is what I liked. Liked by me. Me, that’s who.
Who loved you and the color you owned. Owned by me.
Me is red. Red is what I like.

She was only five years older than me. But she was millionaire.
And then today she died. But she was still a millionaire

And bath rugs. Toilet seat covers. Is was a day of such closeness. My partner and I shopping for these things online.
My partner laughed. It was easy to make him laugh.

TI have been robbed.Or so they tell me. I tell them I’m a robot.

But I feel human. I have emotions. They say I can’t have emotions.

But I feel sad, happy, all those things.

But they say nope. Can’t.

I feel that too-their nope and can’t.