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02/21/26   
Like a game of Lonely, Lonely Hippos

Sleepwalkers

by Chandra Hiccough
bio/email
July 7, 2003
Sleeping deeply, Major Fleeping
rose though no alarm was beeping
and made a sandwich of apple cores,
which he chewed between the snores.

Incessantly talking while sleepwalking,
Lazlo Dennis beat at tennis
a regional club pro, who, you know,
was dreaming of sleeping in the snow.

Reginald Humphries was getting comfy
on the cowcatcher of a train
speeding toward the coast of Maine.
(He had lobster on the brain.)

Sundried laundry
presents a quandary
for a tomato-eating serf-in-waiting,
who until recently was dating
a school of trout he'd dreamt about.

Loosely-roostered farms were boosted
by the news that Simon Schustered
across the Atlantic in a biplane.
"Worst sleep of my life," he did complain.

The president, he did lament
waking up to sign a treaty
from a dream where he shared ice cream
and a sleeping bag with Ally Sheedy.

Texas Tony dreamt alimony
had been outlawed while he slept on his horse.
Which it had not been, but of course
while he dreamt this was the case.

But worst of all was Lowland Paul,
who dreamt he was naked at the mall.
The news that had poor Paul in a pall
was that he wasn't dreaming, not at all.


Quote of the Day
“All the world's a stage, and unfortunately everyone's doing improv and they think they're so fucking funny. But you know what? LAME.”

-Bill Shacksperd
Fortune 500 Cookie
Top dentists all agree: You need teeth, so in short, allow the gargantuan redneck arguing over who did that "Life is a Highway" song to win the disagreement. Sometimes life feels like a TV show, and this week it feels like Red Shoe Diaries—the nudity is all too brief and all your sex will be simulated. Taste taser, motherfucker. Lucky moods are alright, not too bad/you?, feelin' frisky, and I seriously can't go on living no more.


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