Parse and Parcel, or, Purse and Purcell

not going through that Boeing thing again, boing! boing! boing! is was Kass at the Trib after moving and a merger, and Seattle stayed behind on that one, I forgot how much time of yours I must waste with extra verbiage, the excessive erector set of unnecessary scaffolding, I'm sorry, I mean, I'm not sorry, but you can see I'm trying, and I don't care about your dead baby, nobody cares about your dead baby. Aren't you running late? And in Lawrence, Kansas a grave marker made of magic bones, a bassoon knot of primitive garden groves. In Helena at the end of August when the late heat hangs dry humidity's sweet dripping teat. Sewing machines to stitch together jackets of meat, and man's-skin dust cover, duvet, a double feature in the closet of Skin Deep with John Ritter and Duet with Gwyneth and I'll tell you this now--I'm tired of defending the waif, the crying was fine until it came with guilt trips and friendships with Michael Stipe and delusions of being chosen in some realm of Christian Science right, I know, whatever-the-fuck-that-is.... and you're looking at me like I'm crazy! shit