Nonfiction
He said, "Nonfiction is
The only thing I read.
"When you've got reality
Who needs to make up stories?"
And the president smiled
Shone from the cover of the glossy magazine
That he left lying there
When he went in to get a filling in his cavity
I picked it up
I could not resist discovering
What old Rotten-Tooth Robert had been reading
It was a two-page exposé
On how what we say is often so misleading
When we say (passing away)
We mean death
When we say (bumpy-bumpy, Barney-mugging)
We mean sex
So I told the receptionist, "Good-bye,"
Though what I meant was I loved her
And I walked out the door 'cause I had just said good-bye.
And it would be strange otherwise
City living
I popped my pleather collar
Pulled my sombrero lower on my head
Waited for the bus with a grandmother
And thought about the things that I regretted
Like walking out on the receptionist
And living all alone
And the wind bit through me like a bayonet
On a beach on D-Day, and I went home
And for weeks I stayed inside
Speaking only with my hands
Though I never learned to sign
So I didn't understand
No I didn't understand
Nonfiction
She said "Nonfiction's never been my cup of tea.
"I stick to stories about spaceships
And 20, 000 Leagues Under the Sea."
And I smiled and booked an appointment
For the next day and the next
And she gave me that secret signal that looks like A-Ok
But actually meant...
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