We saw baby ones trying to swim like little faint feathers so we helped them by rubbing our fingernails together and whistling and they swam, boy. Swam and reached across the sky and it was the stairway to heaven kind, the kind where you can see the spirits of those who have passed on walking up, up.
We now walk around town with our baby pictures taped or glued over the pictures of the saints with leather ties around our necks and so when you see someone with the leather necklace you take your baby pic out and show it to them and they marvel at how beautiful you were when you were new, and you do the same.
— Oh you were such a beautiful baby.
— Look at the dreams in your eyes.
— Oh look at your hair. Just like a bear’s pelt in spring.
— Oh you are so beautiful. So so beautiful. Have a lovely, lovely life.
That’s how it is now. I am proud to say I started this after everything fell apart. It just happened. I woke up and I was in a bad place with bad people and there was little hope for me and there was my grandfather’s leather necklace that the priest gave him with a saint I didn’t know and there was my favourite baby picture of me on top of the fridge covered in lint and dust and so I cleaned it and took some glue (that we had been sniffing) and I glued my face over St. What’s His Hump’s and I wore that necklace, tucked under my shirt over my heart.
Two nights later I got rolled and as Franky and Henry were going through my pockets and were holding me upside down they pulled the necklace out.
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