Re: gardening log
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My question was very clear:
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again! 75
'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'
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Are you talking about uncle steve, who we buried under the shed last year? It was an accident, he slipped down the stairs after one to many vodka gimlets. Abigail heard his neck break clear in the parlor.
What, with the kids depending on us and Ma's recent turf battles with the MS 13, we couldn't rightly go to the police, could we? Besides, Steve always was pretty butch. He loved working with his hands, almost as much as he loved the odd hitch hiker or a burly long-hauler leading a double life.
Here's to ya, Steve! Hit that bong up there with the Big Guy!
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