Honorable Sister –

   Though the universe speaks all languages, we speak English.  Hurrah! so to speak.  It is a fine afternoon that rains down sun spires, in flits and sparkling dashes; the flibber mouse wrinkles its whiskers, while fruit flies ply their trade in stolen nectar.

   Though the universe thus speaks chaos in silence, because we cannot hear it all at once, there is shopping to be done.  How does one juggle concern for melting ice caps, plastic bags at sea, with chocolate milk?  The hunger of our kind gnaws like a blind woman singing a military air.  Please do not disturb the peace, or march for it, or imagine it to be tangible.  A concentration of algae fits comfortably,  liquid fins that might tickle if acknowledged.  There is money enough for trade in our everyday haunts, but the hunger of bankers is also blind, passionate, cold, gnawing.  A tarantula speaks no language.         There is a scream at midnight  --

     An everyday afternoon of usual pursuits, interrupted briefly by earthquakes and flecks of wood chipped from dwindling  forests -- street people play harmonicas, spewing cannabis from horizontal slats, and plastered jitneys free the Ganges.  A  Lexis might persuade.  Or the New Age guru might throw yellow powder,  showered upon participants who will arrive shortly,  speaking of Michelangelo.  My, my, my, player piano needs a new paper roll, won’t you punch one out?  You can do it.  For only $19.95 – but wait, there’s more!  Do it today and get, at no additional cost, a free funeral (to be redeemed upon remission of sins, restrictions may apply depending on warranty restrictions in your State of hypnosis).

   The baby needs to be fed.  Don’t we all?  The baby  speaks all languages.  It’s first scream was when?