Aaron Kunin

The Sore Throat

" Do you always have to conceal something," he demanded.
" It's as if I'm talking," he remembered.
" For talking I require a voice," he demanded.
" For a voice I require money," he demanded.

"How much money," she demanded.
" Two dollars and some change," he demanded.
He was weeping. "What are you thinking," she demanded.
" How do you know I'm thinking," he demanded.

"For thinking I require a mind," he complained.
" For a mind I require brains," he remembered.
" For brains I require a head," he sighed.
" Guess what's in my mind," he demanded.

"Why is it so difficult for you to guess what's in your own mind?" she complained.
" Is this a system?" he wondered.
" It's not a business," she gasped.
" The sound of your own voice would disgust you," he complained.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she complained.
" Don't be so sure," he demanded.
" How do you conceal an idea," he wondered.
" My god, my god, I know not what," he remembered.

"Can you hear what I hear," she demanded.
" You don't like anything I do," she complained.
" You don't like seeing me like this," she guessed.
" Keep your eyes on heaven," she demanded.

"Always think about heaven," she demanded.
" Everything you say is impossible," he complained.
" Keep your eyes on god," she was about to say (but he would not let her
      complete her idea).
" You don't know a thing about money," he complained.

"I don't conceal the fact that I'm bad with money," she sighed.
" How much money do you have in your business," he demanded.
" More than a thousand dollars," she reported.
" That's not so much," he sighed.

"How do you ever know what to say," he demanded.
" I know what I mean, but I can't say it," he gasped.
" Don't you know what I mean," he demanded.
" Is my voice loud," he demanded.

" Like god," she complained.
" It was always there, our business," she remembered.
" It will be there forever," she guessed.
" Are you the word of god," she demanded.

"If I were god I'd be sorry," he gasped.
" It's a good day for seeing a video," she demanded.
" A good day for talking to a moron," she sighed.
" Something in your throat would like to have a word with you," he reported.

"The sore throat is talking to you," he started to say.
" How much longer do I have to have this sore throat anyway," she demanded.
" The god of the sore throat is not a just god," she complained.
" There's a video of myself in your eyes," he reported.

"You do something to me," he gasped.
" We don't always like the rats who like us," she sighed.
" I'm your toy," he complained.
" You mess with my mind," he demanded.

"What purpose are you concealing," he demanded.
" No wonder you're the way you are," she was saying.
" I can't change you," she was saying.
" That's just what you are," she was saying.

"I no longer say what I wish," he complained.
" I like the way you talk," she demanded.
" Can you doubt it," she demanded.
" If there's ever anything I can do for you, anything at all, just let me know," she