call me rocktober.
where have you been all my life?
why, traveling, tony.
where did you go?
how was it?
they call me may over there.
october, all the good things happen in your month. so why must you do these things to the cubs two octobers in a row.
lets talk of love instead, my friend.
these kids were making out on the swings last night as the moon glowed and the clouds loitered and the hops of the crickets became slower and shorter.
i hate you.
theyd swing for a little and laugh and then stop. then theyd laugh some more and run and fall and roll and love and they didnt care about the wood chips or the grass getting into their hair.
or poo, tony. thats right. which there was none of, thank you. there was only happiness and discovery and unfathomed joy like never before. do you know what it was?
it was october. the friend to the everyman. celebrations and festivals. cornicopias of smorgasborgias.
the only time when its ok to nail an ear of half shucked dried up corn on your door.
and hay in your yard.
or squash on your stoop.
or candy corn in your poop.
i love you tenth month.
and i love you too.
tsar plays tonight.
why do you think im so happy?
i was polled today on the phone and i told them i was voting for bush.
good god man, you cant be serious.
i wasnt, but ive noticed that the more polls show bush in the lead, the more i hear people say theyve registered just to vote against him.
i love america tony.
i do too october.
even if canadas better.