letters to the blindmen - 1994
dear toaster
dear toaster i am giving you a letter because you are probably sick of bread i get fed the same old crap every day and i am sick of it too my faithful grillmaster these are lonely days i have spent a lot of time in the kitchen of late it is the warmest room in this icebox apartment and i confess i am grateful for your constant and loyal presence in fact i have begun to feel quite close to you please pardon the sentiment i am deathly tired of the company of humans even that of the best of my friends to be perfectly frank people have begun to bore me silly i am weary of their verbal exhaust pipe pollution their wet cracker minds their plastic shopping bags their knicknacks and the smell of their lives i am beginning to wish i were a housecat so i could spend more time in cardboard boxes people are supposed to outgrow this desire in childhood along with the need for pony rides trapdoor pyjamas and bedtime stories but i myself have not i fear i shall be misunderstood i hope i can trust you to keep this confidential my life is not at all as it is cut out to be the world may think i know glamour but i know only ouzo and rain tonight i watched the sound of the phone as it rang but that is our little secret tomorrow i think i will listen to a black-and-white photograph i hope you will be there for me see you at breakfast
Posted on décembre 09, 2001 09:51 PM