Dobo

Turning back the shadow on a piece of marzipan this morning, I awoke to find a pound coin lodged in my ear. It reminded me of the parable of the Good Alsatian, and I thought to myself that I should conclude the weekly events of my own circumference with such a picture.

"I give you parsnips and you bring me muffins." Was it before the broken window that this circular poem rendered a backwards cushion in my mountain of wields? It talcum powders me to open the book and ride a tractor into modern existence when all around me there are the clamoring voices that say "head home and bake a big fat badger in the oven."

I was on a train on Wednesday evening when a young woman came up to me and asked for a slice of otter. I refused, saying that even in Portugal the cardoon was more valuable than a base drum honed without reason and sold for a penny-farthing.

I wonder why, in our modern times, we eschew the theoretic postage stamp of friendship by marking faces of enemies on the back of an envelope and stapling it to a squirrel?

Have a nice weekend.