My Cardboard Balcony

Give Me A Chance by Belinda Roddie For one day, just try to see me function like a multiple circuit animal, with paws settled in the dust, teeth unbared, and the extraordinarily minute touch of genius (because you can't use too much). Give me one chance to offer you a canvas so stained it's beautiful, rather than hear the echos of juvenile irrationality when a disciplinarian bites her own cuticles because she's so nervous she'll sound or look or seem the wrong thing. Don't tell me I'm not offering you three meals a day, because I am. Hot lava turns into gravy in my boat. I am not stoked by the emptiness in my room. I am not thrilled by the on tap, chilled reception of my intellect. I can direct a sailboat away from the sting of salt, but I can't promise that a little foam won't bubble around your clogs. One day, I want to see you in the corner, smiling at the splash of color on all my children's faces - not th

The lamb was ready for the altar, but not in the way one would expect. Blood did not stream in ribbons from its flank, nor did bubbling cartilage spark like confetti at the sound of a knife. No, this little guy was draped in the finest purple robe the temple had to offer, with a little fitted crown atop his fuzzy head. The High Minister was most pleased. He smiled and bowed to the critter.