Plathological

I'll Be Dirtier Than you, But My Space Will Be Spotless

Of course, take me there; we'll love the phrase real Jew. Just adore it. I'll wear twin-sets or tweed all the time and my ailment will be heatstroke. I'll have eczema on my ankle and mustard on my toes. Nothing will cure me. At four AM, you'll hear me building fires from chopped bundles of dry wood and toasting my drugstore sandwiches inside them. You'll watch me learn to do things without looking, push-button, though sometimes I'll burn the side of my hand, not from touch, but proximity. My strengths will include having a second nature. Embedding it into the wee hours, showing it through automatic movement. I'll find old bikes with missing peddles, and there'll be people to fix them. The seats long enough for five people, one after the other. I'll know how to negotiate the cost of repair, from previous experience. The chain, of course, will have to be replaced. The bolt on the handle tightened.