The Bobinski Brothers

        “Her name is Liz, and I need her in my biz,” I hummed wantonly.  A band of clouds all slanted
	in the same direction drifted across the hairline horizon like a tribe of adults and children, all
	hastening toward some unknown destination.  A crisp pounding.  Done to your mother what? 
	Are now the…And so you understand it, she…I.  Once you get past the moralizing a new winter
	twilight creeps into place.  And a lot of guys just kind of live through it?  Ossified soup, mortised
	sloop.  Woody has the staff to do nothing.  You never know what.  That’s what I think.  Like two
	notes of music we slif apart, far from one another’s protective jealousy.  The old cat, sunning
	herself, had no problem with that.  Nor did the diaphanous trains of fairies that sagged down
	from a sky that suggested they had never been anywhere, least of all there.  At the time we had a
	good laugh over it.  But it did hurt.  It still does.  That’s what I think, he slapped.