Hello and can’t quite and unfathomable and you are the powdered drink trying to unswell my throat if it is unswellable and not now permanently all the more bouncy and I remember the transition you made and each time you made it and I know you weren’t finished, were every part a Brecht masterpiece, and were a continue-grow, a keep-go, and I continue to coddle you, to swaddle and swoddle you, and you’ll never be blanketless around me. Instead I’ll buy every straight to video, every cinema ticket share I can take. And I’ll feed you M & Ms from pick and mix bags, just the red white and blue, then we’re solidly patriotic and no-one assumes it, sees it, waits, because how could they do this again?

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