On the corner of Redding ln. Was the most wonderful house. An old widow thoroughly insane That loved preparing grouse. Stuffing them with many things was how she spent her golden days Marbles, crabgrass & potato strings because her urge was just no phase. Mrs. Stein would don her lace and start dancing with those birds. She could give a fuck about saving face Or the way her lipstick was blurred. Such a dear, she made me laugh, but then she'd make me cry. When she used my pitchfork as a staff infectioning her brown eye. Then she fed me wholey halved & tinfoil blackened by the sun I begged to be congenitally saulved permanently under her geraniums.