Train Ride

From over near the eastern galaxy, a voice cried out, “This universe ain’t big enough for me and sarcasm too.”  And from the violet area, a coy voice replied, “Why I thought you’d never ask.”

And in response, the father waved his arms about and bellowed, “Just look around you – what do you see besides stuff?”  And the kid replied, “Very little else.”  And even louder, the old man roared, “Very little else – very little else, what do you mean, ‘Very little else’?”  And the junior answered, “Well, it is mostly ‘stuff’ just like you said, and then the other, minor stuff.”  And the senior thought. “Oh how sweet, oh how tough; minor minds and minor stuff…how unbearably sweet.”

After reading that “pillow talk, intimate sexual repartee, should never leave the private site of its bedroom origins,” this one chap thought, “Hmmm, that’s how I feel about my talking to myself.”

Even though the former may be inconvenient, even heart-breaking, do note: The last-train-of-the-day is not the same thing as the “last day.”

Over at that little bar, while I was standing by the jukebox – waiting for that important, very intellectual lecture to begin, this one rather lifelike chap told me that he only wished he were rich or clever enough to devise a way to “bell his mind,” so that he’d “hear it coming.”

During part of the seven months they spent together, while sitting under a tower over next to the bridge, one of the kids said, “After all this talk from the old man, I think I’ve about figured out what he’s trying to tell us…I believe you could sum it up by saying that there’s a difference between having-a-rat, and having a pet rat.”  And his brother stood up and thought, “I don’t believe I want to hear any more of this.”

J.