my platypus


My platypus is sky blue. He can close his eyes and escape into a world where angels lift him up and cover him with stardust.


My platypus wears Daffy Duck slippers and goes out, half-naked, in the rain, to stomp in puddles.


My platypus wears chenille with aplomb.


My platypus walks along the sidewalks besides great leafy parks and spreads his wings and pretends he's an airplane.


My platypus floats on his back on the ocean and is carried by the waves. He sinks down to the bottom of the sea and walks, salt-encrusted, with the fish, who lead him to the sunken continent of Atlantis so that he may learn the wisdom from the Mer-people.


My platypus throws his arms out in the middles of dance floors, lit by strobe-light and spinning disco ball, throws himself into the pounding music, lets himself rise and fall with the rhythm, can feel it surging thru him so intense that he feels like he's going to burst.


My platypus isn't afraid to cross-dress.


My platypus has dazzling teeth.



My platypus is made of sunlight.


My platypus understands, and people see this in him, and are drawn. He is the leader of a cult, a good Bachus, a well-dressed Dionysius, and the members of his cult feel alive when he passes near them. When he touches them with a fuzzy paw, they turn to each other and beam like star-children.


My platypus's creations come, before him, to life, huge sketches of ink and paint and white paste driven into frenzied forms, achieving mythic status before his eyes, and he looks at this as it happens and is amazed.


My platypus tries to avoid philosophy, though his mind does seethe with electric abstraction.


My platypus is a beautiful creature, and he knows how to have a damn good time, because he's not afraid to be himself.