John Denver is in the trash, looking for food. He is not dead. He is hungry.
John Denver may or may not have rabies, and is eating plastic knives out of the trash can. He is happy. John Denver is smiling and he wants to eat me, maybe. At least, he can see me. Eat me, I’m not sure.
John Denver has a heart murmur. I don’t know this. John Denver does not scare me. He scares me a little. He brings out my own insecurities. And my own feelings are not real anymore. I’m not sure about this.
John Denver is eating plastic knives and staring. He is scared of his heart. He doesn’t know that I don’t know if I feel anything real anymore.
I step so hard on my foot, I don’t feel anything.
John Denver looks back down into the trash can.