I start thinking of milk and throw up. The fans come back on. Children smell good. Powder blue and chicken fluff yellow. My mother smelled like sweaty fists. Jail cells and wedding bells. I know them well. Screams and laughter are one and the same to me. My belly-button says something: "Take me on the roller-coaster!" I had a son once but he didn't make it. He looked like his mother. He liked to eat apples.
           Hank visits me We were good friends a few years ago. He had a daughter. She didn't make it either. Hank spits in my left eye and smiles. His little girl smelled like grass. I used to cut grass when I was a little boy. I liked being a little boy. I killed a dog when I was three. It smelled like my mother. A wet mother.
           I had a Ford Mustang when I was twenty-three. Shiny blue. Polished chrome all over. White inside. It smelled like me. Of course. My finger just fell off. Ben will pick it up. He collects them. Sally comes in. She washes my face and changes my sheets. Her cheeks look pretty tasty. I think she kicked my finger under the bed. Ben won't find it there.
           I had a little sister. She grew up though. I think of milk again and my stomach growls. Sally laughs and walks away. Ben comes back in. He's naked and there's a needle in his arm. He comes over and chews on one of my eyebrows. It sounds nice. He falls asleep on the floor. I look at his tattoo. Blue, red and green. Looks like a child's eyeball. Occassionally, I picked a sour one. I let those run away.
           There are two black specks on the ceiling now. Ben starts to suck his thumb. He looks very beautiful. Dinner comes. Marshmallows and a baloney sandwich. Ben wakes up and eats my sandwich. He puts one of his marshmallows on my chin and another one on my foot. They tickle. Harry comes in and eats Ben's sandwich. He moves the marshmallow on my foot to my knee. He smiles and leaves.