He whisper-sings the punch line. “Toot toot, peanut butter.”
Little peanut sitting on the track/Her heart was all a-flutter/Along came a choo-choo down the track/He pauses, nudging me, and whisper-sings the punch line. “Toot toot, peanut butter.”
MILK’S ABOUT TO SOUR BY AMY PURCELL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 14
The locomotive comes hissing and clanking up the rails, gliding to a stop in front of us. And because i…