Fantastic Metropolis

Great Boppy was working the steamship dock when Willie fainted from hunger in a herring barrel. In short the clown was brighter blue than you. Listening for the raspberries Boppy fished the urchin out of the herrings gave him dinner and walked the poor creature home. Meanwhile his aunt had just retired to a country house near inferior Shinnach kept by a man we will call Sir Eisteddfod. Willie was alone all day shut up in the room behind the buxom minx.

The maritime ale house rocked through the night right up to closing time when it grew peaceful and quiet he dressed in black and went out to the cricket field. Sometimes he and the puppy got into scrapes with the law breakers they met outside every dream. On returning to stuck Willie thought it over lollies and cans of hot tea with Zari. Making dear friends sigh.

19

Willie had always been afraid of rats dish washing at 17 he put aside his fears and got to know a few who led him to a skunk keeper’s shanty that had fallen into disuse out where the coast is clear. The window was blushing before the dawn the ceiling weakened by loss of blood was murmuring faintly at the four bare walls the floor brooded on. He caught the drift and made up his mind to unfit immediately. Who let you in?

Willie scratched a match down eight forty’s innocence while multitudes of sleepy readers waited listlessly for the next sentence.

Calm your boiling tapioca knickers bamboozled the oxygen out of the air. Rubbish was the rind of all wretchedness. Colly that impertinent imp cannot climb a tree in Oakland. Nine black and white manure statues pilfer the old sand bank over on slum St. and poor folk like us rust. This is so wonderfully Brer America. Uncle Al the unwieldy genius is air tight.

Rich big diamonds toots sulphate of limey off some penniless dead beat’s deathbed. My clowns of war proved too severe for the penguins handcuffed in the act of flight they fired guns and pecked at our legs as we lumbered by swearing. Zari put her chubby fingers into her mouth and granny Honeycomb went on knitting.

Picture a life like imitation of me shivering and hungry pursued by cannibals on board the nux vomica I found a coffin covered by a pirate flag. Willie changed into a giant white paletôt. Iffy ate caramels.

20

Dandelion is hatching Neem neem feeding her the eels stamping down the nest muttering with compassion as thousands of paper snow flakes fall on the straw. Here I am. Neem neem. May I rummage in your top drawer?

The war with the gingerbread men was no tea party said Boppy filling the kettle. Don’t scream describes it fairly well. What a dreary waste of a pine box. All terror to the people bravely eking out a thick not so simple doom. I happened to be thinking I’m afraid wishing won’t do. Big diamonds is thrown from the bridge. We will never be worth saving. I shouldn’t wonder it occurred to me.

When the circus landed Willie quietly stole under the tent made to look like a soap bubble you missed it.