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Zucchero, zucchero sul davanzale, mangio tutte le cose che vedo volare, piccolissime orribili forme di vita che traversano questo no squallido omicida. Non si va per il sottile quando si ? in guerra come un cane io lecco anche il sangue per terra. Ragni, passeri e mosche in attesa di un gatto che mi ? stato promesso come premio riscatto. Ho mangiato gli uccelli, gli ho aperto il cervello perche l'arte del volo... dipende da quello.
E tra l'indice e il pollice il fetido pasto non ? poi cos? male, ? meno indigesto

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