(Dedicated to Molly Huggard, the only other member of our two person, self-taught poetry class located in Austin Hall during last summer)
*Side Note – If you alphabetize Madagascar, it would be called this: Aaaacdgmrs. Hehehehe
Always listening. For what?
Barking dogs, of course. Why’s that?
Cause it’s become comforting when going to sleep.
Does it really help you sleep?
Every night. It’s dependable.
Few things here don’t seem like chaos.
Good point. Where do you go to escape the chaos?
Hotel Colbert, only if I’m feeling vasha-y.
If you’re not? Where do you go?
Jeez, lots of places I guess. Depends on what I’m looking for…
Killer mojitos? (And yes I mean “killer” because usually they contain ice) Outcool.
Lemurs? Andasibe National Park. You can see Indry and Dancing Lemurs.
Mosquito bites? My room at night time. (Just killed one sitting on my arm)
No, no. That’ s much too specific.
Oh, what do you mean, then?
Perhaps I should phrase the question another way…
Quand tu es libre, qu’est-ce que tu fait?
Rien. Non, ce n’est pas vrai. Je marche, je mange, je decouvert!
Seems fun, why do you complain?
Tummy troubles.
Ugly side effect of traveling.
Vasha ianoa!
Wow, even insulting me in Malagasy. How clever.
Xenophobic, I am not.
Yoda, I am.
Zut alors! Ending on a Star Wars joke, nice.
Like.
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