Goat Boy’s Enquiry

by Brad Rose

Out here, among the lonely trees, I’m taking inventory and rounding off the square numbers to the nearest Dewey decimal point. Beneath a hundred-story sky, nothing is forbidden, although there aren’t enough mummies to satisfy the dead. Don’t you love the elated wind? Cupid’s bite is much bigger than his bark. It’s his fashion statement. “Are you kidding me?” enquired Goat Boy.


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