I stab my father with a carrot so I can say he lives to the pacifist who broke the television we were called to witness.  I run after my children because they think they are chasing nothing down the street.  god blows two bubbles that become the eyes of a crucified man.  the last arm in the world will be a prosthetic arm made for the toddler who will die in the meat of the dying.  your father has an apple in one hand and a tomato in the other.  everyone is poor.  everyone is responsible for how it is portrayed to the bun in the oven.  the softness we reserve for women has gone to our teeth.