Rather than doing laundry, I should have sought out a large swan to whisk Frank Marmalade and me away to some secret island or world.

My mother wrote a haiku today that I don’t quite understand, but she seemed to think it suited this daydream:

I love myself, too.

Seven sleek swans swim smoothly.

A broken window.

By petraimplodes  •  Friday, July 3, 2009  • 

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