i don’t belittle the weather anymore:

march told me he didn’t like being called the month before april and april, she told me she didn’t like being compared with may that way. all the business about showers and flowers and crap like that. i told her i would look into it and see what progress i could hinder on her behalf. i even told her i’d tally the votes if i ran a carnival horse-driven buggy brothel. which i do, so i suppose i should on her behalf. she is not a half; but b half, so i wonder if it’s productive enough for me to support her soggy butt. the melody man chimed in and said he’d try harmony for once on my behalf and i told him that i regretted ever sensoring my eyes from his mannerisms and milieu. april phoned again, in fact, and told me to take a bath. i told her i’d wait for her so we could together.

© Faith Mingus

Faith Mingus bio:

you could say that there is a storm only summer ever sings. it goes like this:
no way the sky eats me alive if she funnels herself down; she will pick me up and to the music of the ever-dulling roar, we will dance: i on her toes and gripping her ribs for balance. as we tilt and pirouette, we will join others in our ring around the rosie
and finally finally! the rosie himself will clap his rhythmical hands as he plunks himself as ornamentation in my hair.

This is Faith's 3rd appearance in Up the Staircase!