The truth of the story is this: the story was written with brute honesty.
That guy once told me to be careful with truth in stories.
I found that picture that questioned the cat on the woman holding the snake.
I thought about animals. About cats, about dogs and puppies and kittens.
Where do they belong? Where don’t they belong?
That guy I think I might like didn’t know that he left my mind
I had to glue stick thoughts all onto a page and print it out.
Hand it in clever words, my name at the top.
And too many thoughts in the spaces.