Dear Xena, Warrior Princess, 

my beets spelled out the saddest sonnet today, all 

"the grifter sighs when at the end of day he's won
so many hearts and bills of sale. he's numb."  etc etc in dirt-smelling iambic pentameter.

they always think they are so emo! just because their juice looks like blood. i smeared some on my mouth and looked like a monster.

love, 
Shirley Temple