There's Plenty Of Blame To

What Was That You Were Saying Just Before The Food Arrived? Something About Me... No Competition... Best Thing That Ever Happened To You.

Sometimes, When I Clean A Kill, I Feed Buttercup The Entrails. He Has Stopped Hissing At Me. Entrails. No Hissing. This Is The Closest We Will Ever Come To Love.

Instead, I Watch Myself Get Shot On Television.

That Should Have Been My Strategy! By The Time I’ve Worked Through The Emotions Of Surprise, Admiration, Anger, Jealousy, And Frustration, I’m Watching That Reddish Mane Of Hair Disappear Into The Trees Well Out Of Shooting Range.

Sometimes When I'm Alone, I Take The Pearl From Where It Lives In My Pocket And Try To Remember The Boy With The Bread, The Strong Arms That Warded Off Nightmares On The Train, The Kisses In The Arena.