Winter Has Come Again.
Last week, we observed the solstice. I don’t know, I thought it was somewhat pointless.
I guess the neat part is that the sun will be coming up earlier and earlier, so I don’t have to wait for the schoolbus in the dark. Sometimes, that makes me nervous. The cold doesn’t bother me, but the movement in the creosote can be bothering a bit. I like the smell when it is wet, or it is burning. Uncle likes to burn creosote now and again at the entrances to the tubes and shout out poetry.
I hope when I am older, I can understand poetry.
Shelly at school wrote a poem, but it was about her dog. I think it went something like:
“Patches, Patches, Patches. What a wonderful dog ! I wonder where he went, perhaps into the fog?” …Or something like that.
Uncle mostly sounds like he has been drinking a lot and is ready to vomit again. I wonder why people like gin so much sometimes.
Anyway, Uncle said a lot of poetry that night. Then we had to carve stuff into our chests. I looked away when Sis took off her shirt, I know that there are bad bits to girls you aren’t supposed to look at, and she has them. She is a girl, after all.
Girls are different from boys. I know. Boys have leaner meat.
No comments:
Post a Comment