resting in the leafy furniture with clothes out in the yard, dreams of salespeople prying open the doors and putting down religious wax paper to eat on when all the dishes are gone, because we are lazy, because we are not a walking people any more. the tears turn on and the first water bill in a long while arrives. what we need is one of those crank radios, me and the lady and the kids. time goes by with the Sun floating gently down in our harsh winds. reap the industrial benefits and don’t complain. don’t you see we’re trying to make money here? keep it quiet. turn the radio on and stop asking questions about where we’re headed. dinosaurs will re-roam the earth.

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