quickly.

1) dear anonymous University of Montana professor
do not buy the house i live in. please. realtor, you scamp - the bathroom was
clean, and as far as i'm concerned a dirty oven shows that a house
is a home - but you, professor, lover of knowledge,
keeper of secrets, purveyor of pablum: seek solace
elsewhere. i like my room, and i can see the mountains
every morning. so do not buy the house i live in.

2) Jose Canseco is like the guy who plants the bomb,
calls the police to warn them of it, and then tries
to collect a reward for his self-entanglement. i
call bullshit on Jose Canseco.

3) ahem. having neither followed the trail of
droppings you left which unbeknownst to you
revealed your approximate location, nor pulled the
trigger of the gun that shot the bullet that killed you,
Deer, nor escorted you from your home in the wooded
enclaves of central Ohio in which you spent your youth,
nor prepared the chili that you made so marvelous and good,
I say to you Deer: you were quite good. i honor the grass that
became your marbled muscle which became my lunch, and which
will only add to the fat I have accumulated this winter. Your death
was quite possibly in vain - did i really even need another bowl of chili?
But your life, the spring in your step, your little white tail bouncing with
so much energy and vivacity, this will live in, in me, until I meet my own end.