Says "
The flies are hovering like Black-Op helicopters all around 'Tom's Notebook,' the most recent, love-drenched poesy from the mind that conjured wanton dresses frolicking with wayward hats, and homesick Dinky toys exploring epidermal maps.
"Read it, or I'll kill the cockroach," the pale poet pouted, blowing smoke-rings, holding up his boot, and quoting sonnets this reporter, thankfully, is unfamiliar with."