Bozo the Dog



When my Mum was a girl, she had a dog named Bozo. She found him walking home from the shoe factory she worked at (She left school at 12 to support her family.) She was walking home, and saw what initially looked like a homeless man playing with a dog. But upon closer inspection, she saw that the man was not only homeless, he was dead. And the dog was eating him. She shooed the dog away, but he followed her home, still holding a mouthful of man. He was a good dog, and she didn't mind taking care of him. The only thing that bothered her was when he'd escape from the yard. It bothered her because whenever he escaped, the front page of the next day's paper would be a report of a man found dead, apparently the victim of dingoes. Many dingoes were hunted down. But the kllings didn't stop.

I Listen To R.E.M



"Welcome comrade! This is communist Russia. Our country is best country. As you see here, this is anvil factory. You see people on right side banging anvils with hammers, they are workers. People on left side, they too bang hammer on anvil, but they really KGB spying on right side people. They listen to finest worksong, they bang anvil and spy, they happy. Now you come with me. We go to steam factory, where women work. We throw them meat, we watch them fight for it to death. We drink vodka and laugh. There is small woman with sick child. She tiny. She kill many women already so child can have meat. She soul of Russia. This is why we are best nation. You understand Russian soul now, da? Da."

Hide and Go Seek

One time, I was playing hide-and-go-seek with a kid named James. We were ten. James went and hid, and I counted to a hundred. But as I got to a hundred, Robotech came on t.v, and I forgot about James. Anyway, about eight months later, I was looking for a broom, because I broke a jar of sand I keep to remind me of the ocean. I tried to open the creaky old closet door under the stairs, but it was stuck. I got Dad's crowbar out of his truck, and with some effort I managed to pry the door open. I finally found James. "Found you!" I said, then I picked up his skull and made him say swear words. I'd bring it to school and chase the teachers with it. But one day, at recess, a big dog came into the school yard and took it from me. He buried it somewhere. They say that at night, you can hear the sounds of the headless ghost of a little boy, scratching in vain at the earth.