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i will walk under it to feed carrots to the horses at 'alan farm' and maybe alan will crawl out of the horse stalls long enough for me to talk to him. we will talk about nothing, probably. he will be caked in mud and straw and know that he is waiting to disappear forever in a puff of smoke. i will feed alan a carrot too. brother once said something about how horses like to eat hamburgers falling from the moon. this is when that pink woman was in the middle of the street by the graveyard and trundles of diney fine white napkins were blowing from a huge tilted box over the graves in the tumbling winds. i do not know why i remember that. i will bring hamburgers in my back pockets too and we will all wait for puffs of smoke and loud bangs.
by The JavaScript Source
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