Let us be Frankensteins and my moocow will be too. Ports of call, one last time before the lights go down, all aboard so we can watch this new batch of tricks. Honeycombed and enjambed as we drip from our seats, masking our music in mosaics of feet, on front lawns, porches and bathrooms we steel ourselves. I buy a cookie (I make a sound) and spank your earlobes. Waxing my moocow so that she will outshine you all.