Query Letter

Dear Sirs or Madame, I was pushed through legs into the hard world. Dressed for weather but left naked to mirrors. By the time I was sixteen, I saw seventeen coming for me. I was an early adopter of cloud formations. I managed laughs. I was never too proud to swipe. Eventually, corporate heads recruited me, from the obsolete verb to grow again. In the personal part I want to say I am commensurate with others in pain. For example, last night’s speaker, in the middle of the lecture, shrieked: can someone turn down the sound of that horrible, bloody fucking air-conditioner! And a voice in the audience that was mine replied: it’s rain. My eye is an appointment, circled red. My walk is on file. I have come full circle regarding the cherry blossoms. Where once I witnessed them on the tree; now I see them on the grounds. I know, excel. Contact me soon. I’ll come and go. Ask any moon. With all respect due, M