Birthday The only source of power is retreat. Humor just stops being humorous while irony takes over, like Lenin and the Long March. You gaze at the calendar and begin to chop down all the time you think fits in a small box with a red number on it. For my next love I want it wrapped up in dollar bills. I want to ride in a limo for free. Like a neon sign. I want to be a comfort to all but a home to none. The only source of power is to walk slow and say little, hold hands on occasion but cross your fingers so you can tell corny lies but don’t tell too many because spit balls can hurt and if gum is involved you might lose some hair; you can use ice to freeze the gum. Ice is good. It’s a comfort, when everything is still. Rita Stein