hstoricalA Poem by h d e rushinI am using my teeth to open the pack of almonds; and my sister, in those early days of Parkinson's, keeps her hands under her armpits during conversations. As a child I carried around with me the musings of Mr. Green-jeans who concurred with every damn thing the Captain said. And i'm a little child and even I know the difference between puppets and real people. Real people smell funny. Real people put their hands inside of socks and wiggle their index fingers and thumb as if saying words. But it's the person who always does the talking. I figured that out on my own. When I die people will think how silly my hands were and my fingernails will glisten just like this. © 2015 h d e rushinReviews
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5 Reviews Added on May 22, 2015 Last Updated on May 22, 2015 |

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