May 5, 2004
Bouzzini. "The tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth." Bou-Zzi-Ni.
Artic fox, trust fund baby, two sides of a magician's clammy coin… In Paris we studied Egyptology but while my purrsuits arose from passions for venerated mummified kitties, Cleopatra, and eyeliner coal, L'il Bouzzini studied simply to lasso the title "Doctor," and to taunt his classmates. He fancied himself clairvoyant, yet his only prediction to come truest was that I'd graduate with honors. But who, prey tell, after sunbathing in my preternatural presence, could not figure that?
Artic fox, trust fund baby, two sides of a magician's clammy coin… In Paris we studied Egyptology but while my purrsuits arose from passions for venerated mummified kitties, Cleopatra, and eyeliner coal, L'il Bouzzini studied simply to lasso the title "Doctor," and to taunt his classmates. He fancied himself clairvoyant, yet his only prediction to come truest was that I'd graduate with honors. But who, prey tell, after sunbathing in my preternatural presence, could not figure that?
