celebration

we're writing in the air, spelling out giggly odes to tupperware and unionization, and we're imagining vegan cookies shaped like hearts to show how we feel about all this powdered sugar glam rock confusion, and he's coming at you with a mascara wand but you just run yr hands thru yr flapperesque hair and corner the grinning dog lover to ask him his middle name while i run in circles trying to high five everyone in sight. we nibble on toast like there's no tomorrow. as serious as yr life. please know how much this is not appreciated. please sharpen all yr pencils and line up yr books on yr desk. the cymbals are too much for me at this hour of the morning, feverish pillowcase and all.