Story Time

I want those goddamn green eggs and ham
I do, I do, Sam-I-am.
Sam I am
I am Sam
Am I Sam?
What Would Descartes Do?
Are you really Sam?
Or maybe it's the evil genius who makes you think you're Sam but you're really not, you're just dreaming and he's laughing behind his hands at you because you're really Bobby but you think you're Sam.
And what if you really were Sam, but didn't know it?
Are you still Sam?
This is Sam's brain.
This is Sam's brain on Cartesian doubt.
Get the picture?
Sillyhead.

Tell me a story,
you said.
So I did.
Once upon a time there was a boy and a girl
(quite the original beginning, don't you think?)
they took a trip to the moon
to find out if it was made of cheese
but it wasn't.
It was made of jujubes.
The boy picked up an orange one
(they were his favorite)
and gave it to the girl.
"I read about this in a book,"
he said,
"It's a kiss."
And she smiled.

What if kisses were jujubes
and jujubes were kisses?
Would it make it any easier to give them?
I am drowning
under the weight of all the words I want to say to you
and all the kisses I want to give you.

Sorry
I meant jujubes.
The orange ones.
They're my favorite.