My terreetory

Ad larng forgheen' last eed ees spreeng. Or maybe sommhair. Dios mio las' nigh' was hart.

Eberyday I go oud to the terrace y lie arn the deck. I yam nard afraid frarm the men een the weendows no mas. I yam nard eadeeen' the bords. Eef I ead the bords, no mas TB to wadge.

Bod I keep my eye arn the forgheen' blag squeerel. He is CIA. Black arps. Colleghteen' my eetelleegence.
He shoul' ged real jarb.

Maybe I weell bide his yogular.

Also, eenteresteen' debelopemen. There ees a new poossy in town:

Maybe the Wooman can maghe por me a laddhair? I know how to go orp y down a laddhair.

Yawn

Sonday. Ees so boreen'. Nobardy play weeth me. Anyway, I yam seeck ob streeng.

Maybe I go to the cornhair chorch y seeng garspel weeth the beeg microphone y eempresseeb robes. I bed they nebber hear Domeeneecan garspel. Neghs door to the chorch there ees good barbecue. Bod the Wooman tell me I yam allergeec to pork. She loogh ad all the yooman meals an' fine' I ead pork teedbeeds before each recen' orpchock episode. Pork charps worntime, y pork tendhairloin the order. WTF?

You theenk?

I doan' know why. Perhaps I yam Musleem. Or Jeweesh? I yab an Arabeec nose.

Ladely we are eadeen' lamb. So I yam A-OK.

Yawn. Maybe I go y wadge bord TV arn the terrace. There are preedy leedle red worns... I theenk they tasde lighe ras'berries.

I doan' eed ras'berries.

Ees there a bord whad tasdes como mango? Or moshroom?

Forgheen' bords.

I am beesy

I yab been beesy.

Farmeen'.

Fors', I farm eenside.

Secon', I farm ou'side. Weeth the forgheen bords.

The Wooman say I mos tell you abou' tesds. I when to the ved two weeghs ago. Beeg forgheen' deal. A whole day een car, ad ved, ad home again, por whad? All because I throw orp my pelleds twice.

Eberytheen' ees A-OK. My blord, my pee, my heart, my forgheen' longs. EBERYFORGHEENTHEEN' worghs goo'.

Dr Slade geeb me a toy, see the leopard-spart?

Bod the trauma. The Wooman needs to ged a TB. Nard enorf entertainmen' een her libe so she mos creade drama...Or ees thees the only way she ged to see Brookleen, weeth me in forgheen ambulance?

Seeck, seeck.

Neghs time led them sorgh oud YOR blord, I say.

So. Bag to farmeen'. The bords laugh ad me. The dorfs, the house feenches, the forgheen red cardinal. Then there ees the bor' whad soun's como the Wooman's waghe orp alarm. The whide throad sparrow. Eep, eep, eep.

I am theenkeen' ob recipes por bords. Maybe I wride a recipe boogh.

Cad grass

I waid, y I waid, y I waid.

Ad las', she say, Cad! You may ead!

So I ead! Ees deelicious!

Then she hide ead frarm me. Porquewhy? Ees my grass.

Ad nigh' I cry por my grass. While the yoomans sleeb I corcle the table como un shargh, y I maghe eep como Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana.

She say I keell ead.

Bod ead is MINE to keell, I cry.

She say eed mos "recorber."

Forgheen' grass.

Cad arn a wall

A bad photo (the Wooman!) ob a good photo (the Smoothman!).

I yam forgheen' gorgeous am I nard?

The Smoothman is testeen' the preents frarm his new arnline sharp. Naturally, mine was the fors' peecture to arribe een a beeg flad barx. My eemage ees preent' arn a super-lighweid metal. Ees forgheen' classy. The Wooman squeal. She has no class.

When the sharp ees open, I led you know.

The beeg, the blag, y the byoodeeful

Photos: el Smoothman

Porhaps I loogh como un poossy cad.

Bod obserb the sinewy prowess ob the Harlem panther.

Magheen'  a leedle hexercise. 

Eben een thees gardammned forgheen' oudfeed.

Cad ad table

...was a pardy.

..was eenbided.

...was preedy good.