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Cartoon |
© Beth Roberts | All the brittle sun slamming through the auto mobile's invented and inflicted holes and rolled down windows makes the eyes bug out like a goofy joe, personoid staggering in a quick passage--many ways to get lost in the cracks between this reel and that real, loud gaping laughter past Good Humor Ice Cream's truck stopped dead on I-80, in Iowa, on the third day past the Fourth. What's more, there're many more caricatures shooting by next door, some kind, others monstrous, all lost in a twinkling of a river in a windowpane (air conditioning). We comment on the make and model while our hands grow huge. One grabs at bill boards to halt the rocket's thought, minutely per uses the new and next-to-new blueprints of probable regrets, well, too easy to take off when you're still at 80 mph, we might as well embrace the UFO, the faster we'd go the more our lips would curl, tears harden to horns with which to toss our kids to a place where the arms could easily soar. |