The giggly neighbor feels sorry for me. When I was a teenager I was thin with pretty red hair. I flew to Hawaii to meet up with my husband before we were married. I saw the tops of clouds when I flew there and flew back. I don't remember exactly what they look like. I can only ever see them from underneath now. I think they looked like spoonfuls of pearls. The fat bastard laughs at everything. He laughs at me. He doesn't know anything. He's only ever seen the bottom of the clouds. I'm like that Joni Mitchell song. I've seen the clouds from both sides now. I play my Joni Mitchell tape, especially that song, loud to provoke him. But he's too fat and happy to be provoked. Laughing like he knows something I don't know. He knows shit.