STARS

People think stars are beautiful but I don’t. I think they have pistols and ammo belts and charge around the sky on humongous frothy horses and hoop and holler and shoot off their pistols and wear big-ass sombreros which is funny because they are not even from Mexico. Well, some are. The others buy their sombreros in the tiendas when they are on holiday in Mexico. And some wear homburgs in New York City. And some are naked in my dreams. They’re my favorites. I love them.