My Cardboard Balcony

Organic Robots by Belinda Roddie Organic Robots would be a cool name for a band, I determined, as I strummed a chord or two on my guitar. I blamed the cold for how my voice shook, but I hummed a tune or two that would fit this new group. Our hits would include, "Non-Binary Code," "My Droid and Me," and "Cerebral Soup." We'd include talk boxes and different modes of distortion, as well as sev'ral synths to crank out symphonies and rock op'ras and all sorts of musical labyrinths for audiences to listen to, agog at all the haunting noises. We'd attack the stage, ghosts piloting listless meat sacks.

Tickling Ivories by Belinda Roddie I wish I could play piano. I'd serenade you perfectly.

Sinister Season by Belinda Roddie It's time, dearies - the spookiness is afoot at my house!

Tropical Paradise by Belinda Roddie I have coconut on me and coconut in me. It's like I'm a palm tree both inside and out.

Jack Spuddington by Belinda Roddie  Move over, pumpkins: The Halloween potato is here to stay.

Wanted: More Platonic Intimacy by Belinda Roddie post-plague,  if I could just have more people to hug and cuddle and kiss atop the head and hold hands with and go on friend dates with and say, "I love you," all the time to and be the Matt Damon to my Ben Affleck or the Amy Poehler to my Tina Fey or the Dan Avidan to my Arin Hanson without people acting fucking  weird  about it or thinking I'ma cheat on my incredible spouse, that'd be lovely, thank you very much.

Good Ones, Too by Belinda Roddie  Hey, past self: You will make friends. Lots of them.