The good people at the Dear Mr. President Letters Project have done some updates lately. I confess I’d totally forgotten about it, but then a wave of nostalgia had me re-reading my lies.com posts from March of last year, and I came across my second posting about the project, which referenced my original item about it. Anyway, there’s some good stuff in the latest batch; see Part 5 and Part 6.
My favorite is from Part 5:
Dear Mr. President,
You can be walking down the street and suddenly bump your head into someone else’s thought. Sex thoughts are the biggest. They come in the shape of toast, or falling leaves.
I used to skip along on a beautiful song called dirt. Once some big boys beat me up and kicked the song in my face.
Our tree house was the closest point to the moon.