Poetess: let me write a smart thought,
The only one I had today.
This is my messed up story.
(Thinking of any other name).
I was raised with acceptance of everything,
Both worlds and every person on the Earth.
Inner voice: communists!
Grandma: tell fast already.
Mom: is electricity still medicine?
Father: At 60 I feel like 25.
So she is close to 5, let's be fear..
Poetess: I was in the car,
Empty and dark road, no cars, no much street lights.
Aunt: I would pray.
Poetess: and I heard voice.
Inner voice: may be on the radio?
Poetess: No!
Mom: what were you doing in the car on the dark road?
Poetess: me and my son's father were arguing about the money.
Inner voice: She is good at it..
Mom: didn't I tell you.
At what jungle did you find him any way.
Poetess: We started at home.
It was clear to me, him and the neighbours dog
That everything was my fault.
Then we had to bring the baby to grandma..
Father: kids..
Mom: okay, okay, finish already.
How is the baby?
Poetess: and turn on CD,
Man was bravely singing about winning Second World War.
Grandma: Oh God, my youth.
Stranger: my youth was empty street.
Good thing she doesn't know my name.
Otherwise, name and the phone number.
Poetess: my story started from love.
Inner voice: love again?
Poetess: First love.
I was in school and fifth grade boy liked me,
He turned back when I walked by.
Father: kids.. I had to hide my office keys under the mattress.
They would find it and destroy.
Inner voice: the key?
Father: the office.
My nurses thought I bring different women.
Inner voice: he is a doctor, they all are.
Stranger: I hope the story is clear now.
Poetess: you are messing up my messed up story.
Every one: sorry, keep going.
Twenty more years to go..
Poetess: he (pointing at the Stranger) asked me what's funny today.
Stranger: We didn't expect your father to take a pig for a walk.
Twice a day her father was walking a pig in a suit,
Dressed better then us.
What is it a pig like a dog.
Poetess: We had dogs too, and chickens, cats, plants and vegetables, flowers..
Detective :What was on the dark road?
Poetess :. .
